Burn It Down and Make Me See (Only Your Love Can Set Me Free)
by CharlotteAshmore
Summary: After a successful raid on the Sanctuary by the joined communities, Rick brings home a broken and bitter Daryl. Can Carol battle past the walls he's built to help him heal, or has she lost him forever?
1. Darkness

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Rated** : Mature (FFnet)/Explicit (AO3)

 **Tags:** *Carol Peletier/Daryl Dixon, *Carol Peletier, *Daryl Dixon, *Rick Grimes, *Morgan Jones, *Aaron, *Dwight, *Negan, *Alternate Universe (Completely), *Trigger warnings for abuse, *Alexandria Safe Zone, *Torture (Implied) Daryl, *Torture (Actual) Dwight, *Gore, *Lots of blood, *Never written anything this graphic, *Healing/Comfort

 **Summary:** After a successful raid on the Sanctuary by the joined communities, Rick brings home a broken and bitter Daryl. Can Carol battle past the walls he's built to help him heal, or has she lost him forever?

 **A/n:** So … another plot bunny which won't leave me alone. I added trigger warnings, so read at your own risk. I'll try not to make it too graphic, but no promises. I know the summary is shite, but it is what it is, and I don't want to give too much away. Where's the fun in that? This is all Caryl, so if that's not your pairing, you might want to skip this one. Just know, Daryl didn't escape the Sanctuary (ala 07x08). He's going to be rescued by Rick and crew. And it's not going to be pretty. Happy reading!

Burn It Down and Make Me See (Only Your Love Can Set Me Free)

By:

CharlotteAshmore

Chapter One: Darkness

Carol stared down at the lone pomegranate in the basket on her kitchen table, her upper lip curled into a sneer as her eyes narrowed upon it. Ezekiel swore by them, but she only viewed it with contempt. That memory from her childhood, her fascination with Greek mythology, wouldn't let her go. All she could see in her mind's eye was the story of Hades and Persephone and that dreaded fruit. It would no doubt waste away to nothing in the basket, unable to eat it and not wanting to throw it out. Waste of any kind was taboo in their world now.

There was an apple, a few peaches, even a cluster of grapes. She plucked a peach from the basket, figuring it would go well with the oatmeal she'd made for her breakfast. She sighed as she picked up a small paring knife and began to skin the fruit. It wasn't that long ago she'd been able to scavenge with the best of them. Now, she rarely left the small cottage she'd been allotted, having a crate of supplies delivered once a week from the kingdom.

The solitude her self-imposed exile afforded her was welcome. Walkers rarely wandered near her home, the few who did easily dealt with. It was the humans she shied away from, humans corrupted by their world who were far more dangerous. Carol was so tired of the killing. She did miss her family, however, but they were much better off without her. Or was it that she was better off without them? It was all becoming a blur. When she closed her eyes at night … that is when she was revisited by the ghosts of the people she'd slain. People she'd slain to protect those she loved.

Carol sighed as she put the pit of the peach aside and diced the meaty flesh to add to her hot cereal. She missed them terribly, loved them to the very depths of her soul, but to stay with them, to protect them, it would've been inevitable … to kill again, and she didn't know if she could. Had Morgan told them where she was, even when he'd given his word he wouldn't? Had they looked for her? Did they miss her? Was she hurting them more by staying away?

The knife clattered to the table, her lower lip trembling as tears smarted at her eyes. The group was a force to be reckoned with. They would manage just fine without her. His face sprang up in her mind and she couldn't bite back the pang of bitterness which made her chest ache. Daryl. If anyone would have been grieved with her absence, it would be her dearest friend. Was he even … NO! She couldn't think that way. He was alive, at Rick's side, where he should be. She couldn't allow herself to believe otherwise, or it would break her. She didn't want to imagine a world without Daryl Dixon in it.

Carol pushed the peach aside and buried her face in her hands, appetite gone. She missed her feral redneck more than any of the others. The way he would hide behind his hair, thinking she didn't notice when he stared overlong at her, the sweet blush to his cheeks when he'd been caught, the way he would push past his walls to envelop her in his arms when she was in pain … Her heart throbbed in agony, as it always did when she allowed herself to think of him. She'd never loved anyone as she loved him. The love she'd felt for her daughter was different, though no less special, and she grieved for them both. Daryl was lost to her just as much as her precious Sophia, but it was her own choice. She couldn't look into his clear blue gaze and let him see her for the monster she'd become. It was better this way.

Her head shot up, the sound of heavy boots pillaging her front porch. Quickly, she dried her tears. It was probably Ezekiel or Morgan with another delivery, or even just the desire to check up on her. She'd warned them away – numerous times – but they refused to heed her words. They knew she was in pain and needed her space, but her new friends seemed to think it was unhealthy to be alone so much.

Carol pushed away from the table and rose to her feet, walking the few steps into her living room to the front door. The shadow against the window looked vaguely familiar, but she knew it was neither Ezekiel nor Morgan. Her fingers curled around the handle of the knife she still wore at her waist as her other hand reached for the doorknob, prepared for anything … except the man standing before her, looking as though he'd found his long-lost sister. "Rick …" she murmured quietly, feeling as if the floor had just dropped from beneath her.

"Carol," he choked out, pulling her into his arms. He embraced her much as he had that day in the forest outside Terminus, and she had to stifle a sob. "It's really you."

She allowed him to cling to her for a moment. It felt so good to be held by a member of her family. Her hands wrapped beneath his shoulders, giving herself that one brief minute, feeling him tremble beneath her touch. Something had happened, something dire to have her friend, her brother, in such a state. Her breath hitched, tears gathering in her eyes as she took a step back, fearing the worst. For why else would he seem so broken? "Daryl? Is he …"

"He's alive," he assured her, following her into the house and taking a seat beside her on the worn sofa.

Carol felt as if she couldn't breathe, her legs refusing to hold her any longer. _Not Daryl_ _…_ _Not Daryl_ _…_ _He's alive_ _…_ She repeated over and over within her own mind, the litany grounding her. She covered her mouth with her hand, willing herself to regain her composure. "But he's not with you?"

Rick shook his head sadly. "No. He was taken from us. God, Carol, there's so much I need to tell you," he said, raking a weary hand through his dark brown locks. "We've been looking for you for months."

"How did you find me?" she asked, averting her gaze to where her fingers twisted upon themselves nervously on her lap.

"Morgan."

She shook her head ruefully. "I should have known. Did he also tell you I wouldn't be coming back to Alexandria?"

"He might've mentioned that."

Carol pressed her lips into a firm line of disdain at yet another betrayal. "I can't go back, Rick. I need time."

He sighed, leaning forward to rest his forearms against his knees. "You think you're safe here? How long do you think you have before Negan comes knocking? Nowhere is safe from him."

She stilled, her nails digging little crescent moons into the palms of her hands. "Negan?" she gasped, remembering the raid they'd made on his compound, the memories of being held captive with Maggie still fresh in her mind. "I thought –"

Carol could see the pain lurking behind his clear blue eyes, the stiff way he held his shoulders. God, what could have happened to her friend to have made him this way, when before he'd exuded such confidence?

"We didn't get him, Carol. Everything went to hell after you left," he sighed. "Maggie … we were trying to get her to the doctor at Hilltop when we were ambushed. Negan and his saviors had already taken Daryl, Glenn and Rosita hostage. He had us all on our knees, telling us we belonged to him now. Said half of everything we owned now belonged to him."

Carol blinked in surprise. "Rick, you'd never bow to a madman like that. You didn't with the governor, nor with Dawn. I can't see you bowing down to this Negan person either."

A shudder ran through him as his mind wandered back to one of the worst nights of his life. "He didn't give us a choice. He killed Abraham right there in front of us … and Glenn," he said quietly, his voice raspy with emotion. "We had no choice."

She couldn't stop the deluge of tears coursing over her ashen cheeks over the loss of her family. Glenn … he was like her own son. She'd watched him grow into a man, always trying to remember Dale's teachings and strict moral code. She'd rejoiced when he'd found love in the middle of a world gone to hell. He was going to be a father. What was Maggie to do without him? And Abraham … he was a good soldier, dedicated to their family, always able to get a laugh from them. He was a fighter, and a good friend. And though she would mourn them with a heavy heart, she had to know … "Daryl?" Her voice was pleading as she reached over to twine her fingers with his, offering what comfort she could and seeking some for herself.

"Negan took him as a way to keep me under his thumb. As long as I toe the line, he won't send Daryl back to us in pieces."

Carol felt her chest tighten, her breath coming in sharp pants as panic pressed against her breastbone. "What are you doing to get him back? I know you have a plan, Rick. This is _Daryl_. You know he can't be confined. He needs his woods, his peace. He'll go mad if he's locked up!"

He pulled her against his chest and rubbed soothing circles over her back, trying to calm her. "Breathe, Carol. C'mon, now. Deep breaths," he crooned. "We're gathering forces to take out the Sanctuary where Negan and his people are. It's the other reason I'm here. I need to talk to the leader here to see if he would be willing to join us. Morgan told me this Ezekiel is having the same problems we are, the same as Hilltop. We have to stop him once and for all and take our lives back." He pressed a brotherly kiss to her temple. "I need you to come home."

"I can't. Rick, I –"

"Morgan told me why you're here, why you ran. No one is going to ask you to fight. The battle won't even touch our gates. We're taking the fight to Negan." He squeezed the hand he held lightly in his free one. "But we don't know what kind of shape we're going to find Daryl in. Negan has had him for months. The one time I did see him … God," he groaned, "he looked so lost. I'm sure we can patch him up physically, but he's going to need _you_ , Carol. No one knows him better … not even me. Negan likes to play his mind games. You might be the only person to be able to reach him."

 _Her_ Daryl, she thought, her eyes slamming closed as the tears continued to fall. He needed her. A new purpose filled her, consumed her as she pushed herself off the sofa and rushed towards the small bedroom she'd claimed for herself.

"Where are you going? Carol!" Rick called after her.

She tossed her meager belongings into her backpack and reached for the jasper stone Daryl had given her so long ago which she kept on her bedside table. She looked at it every night before she closed her eyes to sleep, letting her memories of him lull her into slumber. It was precious to her simply because it had been from him. She couldn't leave it behind. Slipping it into her pocket, she retrieved her rifle from the corner and slung it onto her back. Her .45 she stuck in the waistband of her cargos.

Rick stared at her in surprise when she returned to the living room looking more like the Carol he knew rather than the empty shell she'd become. She looked ready to do battle, and it filled him with hope. "You're coming with me?"

She pulled the door open, expecting him to follow. "We're going to speak with Ezekiel about lending his aid to the cause … then we're going home. And let me tell you something, Rick Grimes … you _will_ save Daryl and bring him back to me!"

*.*.*

Carol felt as if she couldn't breathe as she stood outside the clinic, her eyes flickering ever so often to the closed gate leading out of Alexandria. They'd left at dawn, the three communities prepared for battle against a common foe. She'd been back for nearly a fortnight, welcomed with open arms by her family. Maggie had herself returned just that morning. She wouldn't be going to war with her people from The Hilltop, unwilling to risk her unborn child. Instead, she'd gathered volunteers with even the simplest medical knowledge to stock the infirmary and prepare for the injured.

"I'm so glad you're here," the young woman had whispered, holding tightly to Carol. It had been so hard to hold back her tears to be reunited with her, but she'd endured.

Her entire body hummed with anxiety. Every day she had to spend there in the safe zone without Daryl was torture. Was he still alive? It was that thought which plagued her most often. Every day Rick, Ezekiel and Maggie planned and plotted the best way to take out the Sanctuary weighed heavily upon her. They needed to act now! Sleep eluded her thinking of the horrors visited upon her hunter. It brought her demons to the fore, the monster within her wanting to kill them all for what they could be doing to him.

Carl – quiet and sullen of late – had confided in her. He'd told Carol of how he'd sneaked into Negan's base, of how Daryl had been reduced to a mere slave, of Dwight … She didn't care what punishment Rick had in store for Negan, but Dwight was hers. She would deal with him _personally._ She'd made Rick promise to bring the bastard to her, despite Morgan's rather heated protests.

She hauled in a deep lungful of air, feeling as if she were suffocating as she scanned the streets with her cold stare. The remaining citizens of their small community looked broken, clearly damaged by the trials they'd faced while she'd been in hiding. She didn't regret the time she'd spent in quiet solitude in an attempt to heal, but she wouldn't go back. Her family needed her. They were a part of her. They would kill to protect her just as she would for them. It had taken months of soul-searching, but she realized she couldn't avoid it in this world. She could only pray she'd be able to make peace with herself when all was said and done.

Carol stood still as a statue, her ears pricking as she heard the soft tread behind her on the clinic's porch. She really didn't want to have to deal with him. She shrank away from Tobin's touch as he rested a hand on her shoulder. He had been a failed attempt to feel something … _anything_ to make her feel alive. She'd needed touch and he'd been there. She'd used him as a poor replacement for the man she loved, and in another lifetime, she would have felt guilty. It had only made the hollow pain in her chest grow to a gaping chasm. No man could touch her heart as Daryl could, and she had despaired of ever having him return her love. She'd tried to bury her feelings for him and move on, but Daryl was imbedded to deeply in her heart.

She took a step back, reveling in the distance she created between them. His hand fell slack to his side as he regarded her sadly. "Dr. Carson was asking around to see if any of you would like to join him for dinner while we wait," he said softly, trying to engage her in conversation. She'd barely said two words to him since she'd been back.

Carol shook her head, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as she tried to hold herself together. She couldn't afford for the compressed wall of sorrow and pain in her chest to come spilling forth.

"Carol …"

She moved away, another step towards the clinic. Her eyes lowered, counting the buckles on her boots as she fought harder to rein in her swirling emotions. "Don't. Please … just don't."

"You won't even look at me. Was I really so bad?" he sighed mournfully. "I thought when you came back we could talk … work things out –"

A little tick throbbed in her jaw as her hands clenched into fists. She didn't want to do this, but he was leaving her no choice. His bewilderment, his hope to fix things, they were tangible in his tone, and she couldn't allow him to remain in limbo wondering if she'd ever again give him the time of day. "There is _nothing_ to work out, Tobin." Her eyes lifted to his, cold and icy, devoid of so much as friendship. "I was in a bad place, and you were there."

"When it was really _him_ you wanted. Daryl." He swiped a hand over his face, ridding it of the light sheen of perspiration the late summer sun and the heat of the day had wrought. "I've seen how you look at him."

Her teeth gnashed together as he said her beloved's name. He had _no_ right! "I'm sorry I used you. I never meant to hurt you, but I can't … Goodbye, Tobin." She turned on her heel, adjusting the strap of the rifle on her back, and moved swiftly towards the gate where she would join Eric on watch.

Carol offered him a wan smile as she stood beside him. Eric could understand her anxiety, Aaron having joined the group following Rick to destroy Negan's compound. He shared her fears and offered not a word, but she knew he was there for her should she need him. It was all a waiting game now. Panic clawed at her breastbone and sought to steal her breath, but she pushed it down. Rick _would_ bring Daryl home to her. She just had to believe.

*.*.*

Pain. It was the only thing he knew anymore. Pain and burning. He was going to die there … he knew that for a certainty. In so much as the sun would continue to rise in the east and set in the west, just as much as he knew the position of every creek, river or stream in his beloved Georgia backwoods or how it had been inevitable for him to fall in love with one silver haired teasing minx.

Daryl's swollen cheek pressed into the cold concrete floor of his cell, the fever raging through his body quickly chasing the chill away to deny him relief from the burning. He cracked his eyes, squinting at the only light in the room coming from beneath the door. It flickered as he recognized the sound of gunfire somewhere outside. He hoped they all burned. He prayed they all joined him in hell and he was able to garner Satan's favor to join in on the torture of his enemies for all eternity. A brief smile toyed at the corner of his mouth as he relished the idea. It was fleeting, however; as he sought to lose himself once more in blessed oblivion where _she_ was there to comfort him with her healing touch and soft sweet words.

 _His_ Carol. He wasn't worthy to even bring her precious image to his mind. He curled more into himself against the hard cement floor, a shiver wracking his body. He'd been such a fool, so afraid it would be worse to lose her if he lost his heart to her completely. Now, knowing death was creeping ever closer, he was filled with regrets. He was going to die without ever telling her how deeply he loved her, without ever knowing the soft brush of her hands on his bare skin or having never known the heaven of her lips. He flinched at the sound of running footsteps in the corridor outside his prison, praying they would pass him by as his body tensed at the thought of more pain.

Daryl sighed, willing his body to relax, his muscles screaming in agony beneath the raw bleeding flesh of his back. Even by some miracle he survived, he'd never be able to go home to Carol. Because of him, Denise was dead … Glenn. He slammed his teeth together to keep them from chattering against the shivers racing over his fevered flesh. How would he ever face Tara or Maggie, knowing it was his fault … always his fault. How would he face his family, knowing they would blame him? Although, they would never blame him as much as he blamed himself. Whatever tender feelings of friendship Carol harbored for him would be dashed to bits when she learned the truth. The physical torture he silently endured was deserved … it was his penance. And it would never be enough.

He squinched his eyes tightly closed, drawing on his flagging strength to keep his tears at bay. He wanted nothing more than to fall into blessed unconsciousness where there were no regrets, no fears … only his sweet Carol. The darkness where she wouldn't judge him and he could lose himself in dreams of her. He craved the escape from his unbearable reality, an end to his pain.

"Check that one!" Rick growled out in the corridor, and Aaron cringed inwardly. The leader of the Alexandria group looked ready to break apart. He was blood-soaked, a flesh wound to his shoulder the least of his worries as he searched for his lost friend. Negan was down, ready to be transported to the safe zone until they could decide what to do with him. How to kill him was more likely. Rick had taken great pleasure in beating Daryl's whereabouts out of Dwight. Aaron just hoped he was nowhere around when Carol finally got her hands on Negan's henchman.

"Nothing!" Aaron called back. Rick just nodded and moved to the next door. Aaron knew he'd found him when the man covered his mouth with a hand, his features a mask of horror as he fell back into the opposite wall. He rushed to Rick's side, almost afraid to look into the miniscule cell. "Oh, god! Is he –"

Rick moved into the cell, his clear blue eyes pooling with unshed tears as he knelt at Daryl's side and checked for a pulse. "He's alive. Hurry! Look for something to cover him. We can't take him out of here like this. The least we can do is try to preserve his dignity." He didn't notice as Aaron ran from the room to find a blanket, leaning over to brush the hair away from Daryl's face. "Daryl … brother, can you hear me?"

The archer shivered at the touch, expecting pain to follow, too weak to even respond to the familiar voice.

"I'm going to get you out of here."

Daryl groaned, burying his face in the crook of his arm to hide himself away from his friend. "Jus' … Jus' lemme die. C-Can't go back … C-Carol …"

Rick swiped a hand over his face, his throat raw with emotion he couldn't contain. "She's at home, brother, waiting for you," he rasped brokenly. He gasped at the lack of strength in Daryl's hand as he reached out to grasp his wrist.

"Y' cain't let … let her … s-see me l-like this!" he hissed. "P-Promise me!"

Rick was torn between his vow to Carol and his desire to help Daryl. At present, he was more worried about what Carol would do if he attempted to keep Daryl away from her. "I can't do that. She'd burn the world to the ground looking for you." Aaron rushed back into the cell, his face twisted in horror at the sight of the hunter's ravaged back, but laid the blanket over him. "Let's get you home … then you can deal personally with your woman."

 **A/n: Yeahhhhh ... try not to hate me too much :/ My muse is quite sadistic when she wants to be. Thanks for reading! Reviews are lovely.**


	2. Revenge

Chapter Two: Revenge

 **A/n: This is your WARNING for all the triggers. We're going to see just how badly Daryl was tortured (physically) and we're going to delve into Carol's darkness as she takes her revenge against Dwight. So, triggers for blood, gore and all around nastiness. Just wanted to give y'all a heads up. Read at your own risk!**

Carol ignored the splinter which dug into her thumb as she hurried down the ladder. The trucks they'd left in were slowly rolling up to the gates and Eric was ordering them to throw them open. Those littering the streets waited with bated breath, to see who had lived, who they had lost and who would be facing judgment.

Dr. Carson, Maggie and the rest of the volunteers to treat the wounded seemed to have their work cut out for them as those with injuries either made their way to the clinic under their own steam, or were carried there on makeshift stretchers. The staff would have to prioritize and triage those who were most in need and begin their work immediately. Michonne had a bullet wound to her left thigh, but she waved away the hands which reached for her to help her from the back of the second truck where Rick was hunched over, his clothes soaked with blood, his clear blue gaze worried.

Carol somehow knew this was where she would find her archer. "Rick!" she called, running towards the truck, raising her voice to be heard over the shouts and orders to get the injured to treatment. Aaron caught her by her arms as her gaze met their leaders. Her heart thundered in her chest as he averted his gaze. He looked scared. He couldn't have found Daryl only to have brought back his body. She couldn't accept it.

Her nails dug into Aaron's forearms, to the point where she just wanted to push him away, fearing the worst. "He's alive, Carol!" he assured her. She could hear everything he didn't say in his tone. She huffed out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, adrenaline coursing through her body at an alarming rate. Aaron released her and she ran to the rear of the pickup where Rosita was lowering the tailgate.

"We need to get him inside. I'm going to need a line, IV antibiotics and something to sedate him. Mags, tell Carson he's priority!" the medic instructed. "Carol, you with me?"

Carol choked back a sob and nodded fervently. Her eyes raked him from head to toe. What wasn't covered by the blood-stained blanket was filthy. He'd have to be cleaned thoroughly, otherwise whatever measures they performed to save his life would be for naught. She rested her hand alongside his cheek, drawing back with a muted hiss when his fever burned her fingers.

She reached out to peer under the blanket, but Rick grabbed her hand, shaking his head. "Don't."

"Come on, people, we gotta move here!" Rosita commanded, directing several men to lift the plywood stretcher from the back of the truck so he could be carried into the clinic.

Carol straightened her shoulders and moved to follow, swearing to gut the next person who made a move to prevent her from following them inside. Daryl was home, and her place was with him. She left Rick to deal with the prisoners. She was sure he'd find her soon enough. She wasn't expecting to see him at her side as Daryl was laid out on one of the beds face down on his stomach. Yet, from the look in their leader's eyes, no one would have been able to drag him away.

Carson breezed into the area they'd set aside for Daryl – trying to keep him away from as many prying eyes as possible – and pulled on a pair of gloves. Aaron and Eric had been gone for weeks on that particular run and had stumbled quite accidentally upon a private clinic. It was in a small town on the outskirts of Baltimore, but it had seemed nearly untouched. Much needed medicines, equipment and supplies had filled the back of the box van, and they'd returned safely … which was the most important thing.

"Rosita, Maggie, has he been assessed?" the doctor asked.

The women were in the process of carefully removing the blanket. Maggie winced as it stuck in several places to the blood and gore of his back. Rosita gestured to the IV she'd already started, the thin needle already taped to Daryl's forearm. "IV is in, and I've started him on saline to hydrate him. Fever is 103.7. I'm thinking it's due to the state of his back. He's got a nasty infection." She indicated the vial of medication on the silver tray full of instruments next to him. "We're going to have to sedate him, so I pulled some Phenobarbital."

Carol nearly collapsed against Rick, his arms slipping around her waist to hold her upright, when Daryl's back was revealed. There was a collective hiss from the medical personnel, a broken sob from Carol and a curse from Rick.

Carson pushed his personal feelings aside and began to examine their hunter. "What the hell happened to him. It looks as though someone raked broken glass over his skin."

Maggie's gaze lifted to the man, her emerald eyes frigid. "More like barbed wire."

Rick sucked in a sharp breath, staring at her incredulously. "You think –"

"Negan dragged that bat over him? Yes, I do, and I certainly wouldn't put it past that psychopath," she replied. She took in Carol's pale features, and had someone bring a chair over, placing it at the head of the padded table where Daryl lay. "Carol, you're not going to be able to assist in the shape you're in. Just stay with him, talk to him. I need you to keep him calm."

"What can I do?" Rick asked, hovering near her elbow.

"You can go get that shoulder looked at. Then you can help us hold him down if the sedative is ineffective," Rosita answered, opening a bottle of alcohol.

Carson began cleaning the area to see what type of damage might lie beneath the mangled flesh. "This bullet wound to his right shoulder looks fairly new, maybe a couple of months old," he said, probing at the scar tissue. "It was treated … why would they go to the trouble of caring for the wound and then turn around and do this to him?"

Rosita worked from the left, briefly raising her eyes to sneer at the doctor. "You really want to psycho analyze that asshole right now? I'd say we have better things to do taking care of our own," she snarled through clenched teeth. There had been too many they'd loved and lost. She'd taken it as a personal mission to save Daryl. They couldn't afford to lose him too.

Daryl howled in agony as the alcohol was steadily poured over his wounds, his muscles tensing as he prepared to fight off his attackers. His pupils were wide and unfocused as his gaze skirted about, looking for a chance to flee.

Carol took his face between her hands, her touch cool to his burning skin. "Hey … Hey, it's alright, Daryl. You're home … in Alexandria. We're here at the clinic. Let them help you," she crooned softly.

"Dream … not s'posed t' hurt in dreams," he cried, his hands grasping at the edge of the table as he dropped his brow against its padded surface. He'd never known such pain in his life, not even from the beatings he'd taken from his father which had landed him in the hospital more than once. "Y-You're gone … y' left me a-again."

She was unmindful of the tears coursing over her cheeks as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his temple. "No, Pookie," she whispered, using the endearment she reserved only for him and praying it would help him see she was really there. "I came back … for you."

"D-Didn't want y' t' see m-me like this," he returned, his voice slurred from the first dose of sedative. He bit down hard on his lip to keep from crying out again as Carson poked and prodded at his back.

"Can't you give him something for the pain?!" Carol asked, wincing as Daryl nearly crushed her hand in his. "He's suffering!"

"Maggie, give him another CC of Phenobarb. We're going to have to debride the wound to get rid of the infection and we don't need him thrashing about." His gaze flitted over to Carol. "We don't want to give him Morphine – which is probably the only thing we have on hand to even touch this sort of pain – because it could cause him respiratory distress. I don't want to have to intubate him if I don't have to."

Carol nodded at the doctor, confident he knew what he was doing. She carded the fingers of her free hand in Daryl's dirty locks, her nails scraping gently against his scalp in an effort to soothe him. He was already beginning to relax as the sedative did its work. "I'm right here, Daryl. I'm not going to leave you again."

She choked back a sob as he dropped her hand and turned his face away from her. She'd broken his trust, and would have to earn it back, she realized. And there were going to be trials ahead of them. Carol knew better than anyone how he took every loss as his own personal failure. She could just imagine him blaming himself for Glenn and Abraham's deaths, viewing his capture as his own fault, the despair he felt at failing to protect his family. He'd asked her to try … to start over … and she'd failed him, running when her own personal demons had become too much. She rested her face on the table next to his, their breath mingling so intimately. The time for running had passed. It was time to take a stand and grab onto their future with both hands.

Rosita brushed her hair away from her eyes with her forearm as she gripped the gauze pad with the end of her hemostats and continued to mop up blood and puss from the wounds littering Daryl's back. "Some of these are pretty deep, Doc. You need us to grab a suture kit?"

Carson shook his head sadly as he cleaned out a particularly deep laceration, the pad coming back covered in a greenish yellow substance. "Unfortunately, with the severity of the infection, we're going to have to do this for several days until we're sure we have the last of it. We can't stitch him until then. I'm worried about his fever. Did you administer acetaminophen?" he asked Maggie, calling to her where she was working the bullet out of Michonne's thigh.

"I did," she called back. "He'll need another dose in three hours. I also had Kyle fix up the room in the back for him. He'll be here a few days at least."

Carson nodded. "Did he suffer any other injuries?"

"There's an abrasion on his right hip and along his outer thigh, and his left ankle appears to be sprained," Rosita answered. Her ministrations were quick and efficient as she continued to work. "I'm almost done over here, then I'll see to getting him a wrap for that ankle and clean the abrasions."

"Go ahead while I finish here. All I can do now is pack the deeper wounds with gauze to soak up any infection. I am worried we don't have the bandages to spare to cover a wound this size," Carson lamented quietly. "I don't want to leave it exposed to the air. Having to remove any scabbing or clotting is just going to increase his suffering."

Maggie finished up with Michonne and finally convinced Rick to take off his jacket and blood-soaked t-shirt so she could have a look at his wound. "There are some sheets Carol and I cut up yesterday in the store room. Would that work for Daryl?"

Carson removed his gloves and sent one of the volunteers for the makeshift bandages. "Yes, that should do nicely. We also need to get him cleaned up. All this filth is not going to promote healing."

"I'll do that," Carol asserted in a no-nonsense tone, daring someone to argue with her. He could barely tolerate touch – hers moreso than any other – and she could imagine his horror to know someone else had given him a sponge bath. He'd be mortified, and she wouldn't allow his dignity to suffer any more than it already had. "And we'll need to send someone to the house to gather up some clothes for him. At the very least a pair of pants and underwear. It'll make him feel better to have something to put on."

"Vicky's heating water, so I'll have her bring some in when it's warm enough," Rosita said, laying a hand on Carol's shoulder. "Best to get it over with before the sedative wears off."

Rick frowned down at the sling on his arm as he moved to stand next to Carol as she set out things she'd need for Daryl's sponge bath. "How is he?"

She flinched away from the hand he rested on her shoulder. It was painful to look at the concern in his eyes, his worry for the man he viewed as his brother. "Don't … not right now."

"Carol …"

She raised her tear-filled azure eyes to him. "He's going to be fine!" she hissed. "I can't think otherwise, Rick. This is Daryl!" She didn't resist as Rick pulled her into his arms, resting her head on his uninjured shoulder. "If I'm going to help him heal, I can't believe he's broken."

"He's the toughest man I know. If anyone can pull through this, it's him."

It wasn't Daryl's physical state she was worried about. With as well-stocked as the clinic had ever been and the added resource of the Hilltop's resident doctor, she knew he had a fighting chance. It was his mind for which she feared. He would bury his pain and let it fester until it destroyed the man she'd come to love to the very marrow of her bones. She couldn't let him slip away from her.

Rosita left Carol alone for a while, reassured Rick would help her if needed. Carol took the opportunity to question him. "Tell me what happened at the compound." She needed to hear it to give her something to focus on while she bathed Daryl. "How many losses?"

Rick sighed, watching her trembling hands as she soaped a washcloth and began dragging it gently over Daryl's filthy skin, tenderly scrubbing away a mixture of sweat, blood and grime from his body. "Six from Hilltop, four from the Kingdom …"

"How many of our own?"

"Two. Eugene was already dead when we found him, but Lisa … she got caught in the first wave. I shouldn't have even brought her out with us. I knew she wasn't ready," he spat bitterly, blaming himself. "We needed the numbers. Everything went according to plan. The saviors thought we were all complacent, and it made them sloppy. Ezekiel left a contingent of his men there at the Sanctuary to sort out the remaining men and women loyal to Negan. It seemed some of them had no choice but to follow him. We're not going to punish them for trying to survive."

"Negan? Is he dead?" she asked, dropping a kiss to Daryl's brow as he whimpered in his drug-induced sleep.

"No. Aaron and Sasha brought him and Dwight to the cells. After I check on the kids, I'm planning to go down there."

"Go. There's no need for you to hang around here," she assured him. "Give me an hour to get him comfortable and I'll go with you."

His clear blue eyes widened on her. "Carol, you don't have to do that."

She laughed bitterly. "Oh, yes I do, Rick. Did you really think I'd let it go? After what he did to Daryl? Think again, Grimes. I don't care what you do with Negan, but Dwight belongs to me." She wanted her pound of flesh, and by god she was going to have it.

Rick didn't know what to say. Carol had changed so much from the woman she'd been at the prison, sometimes he found himself a little afraid of her and what she was capable of. He did know how much she cared for Daryl whether either of them were willing to admit it, and she was going to have her revenge no matter how many protests he made … not that he was going to do so. "An hour," he acknowledged. Michonne was waiting for him by the door, though she was in no rush to hurry him away from his friend's side. "Let me know if he takes a turn for the worse, yeah?"

"I will."

Carol returned to her task, bathing her archer with the gentlest of touches, making sure she didn't aggravate his wounds. Carson and Rosita positioned Daryl on his side so she could get to his front as Maggie moved a privacy screen in place to preserve his modesty. Carol grimaced as she rested a hand on the crown of his head and ordered another bucket of water so she could wash his hair. There was no telling when she'd be able to coax him into another bath. She was going to make sure he was clean. It was a simple matter then for Rosita to loosely bandage his back and hip and wrap an ace bandage around his ankle. With Maggie's help Carol was able to wrestle him into his underwear and his favorite pair of cargos, and she was able to breathe a sigh of relief that she'd seen to his comfort.

She waited until he'd been moved to his private recovery room before she asked the medic, "How long will he be sedated?"

Rosita hung a new bag of saline and hooked his IV to it. "Another couple hours at least. You gonna stay with him tonight?"

"Yeah," Carol nodded wearily, rubbing a hand over the tense muscles of her shoulder. "I won't leave him after I come back. I just have to do something first."

The young woman smiled maliciously as she watched Carol drop a kiss to Daryl's brow and charge purposefully out the door. She knew a woman bent on revenge when she saw it … and she was glad.

*.*.*

A cold chill tripped over Sasha's spine as she watched Carol make her way down the sidewalk. It surprised her to see the woman had left the clinic at all. Though it was late, Alexandria was a hive of activity. Those with minor wounds were returning to their homes, it being the first night for many where they wouldn't have to worry about where their next meal would be coming from or what new plight Negan would be bringing to their gates. Trucks were lined up outside the pantry, the spoils of war to be divvied up equally between the three communities come morning. Guests to the safe zone were being invited to share a late repast and provided with shelter for the night. It was a warming sight to offset the cold controlled rage she could feel emanating from Carol. She gave the woman a stiff nod, not even thinking of barring her entrance. Sasha wasn't stupid.

Carol slipped down the stairs to the basement, Negan's taunting laughter drifting up to sting her ears. The man did love the sound of his own voice. The one time she'd seen him visit Alexandria since her return, Rick had made sure to hide her. The madman had a penchant for taking wives, and their leader had feared for her safety. It was the same reason he and Gabriel had schemed to make it look as though Maggie were dead. Carol would have been all the more precious were he to find out she belonged to Daryl. She clung to the shadows as she slipped silently down the stairs, focused on remaining inconspicuous for the time being, the cold comfort of her 9mm shoved into the waistband of her cargos and her knife in its sheath on her belt grounding her. She couldn't let her rage consume her … yet.

"I saw her, y'know … the chinaman's little woman," Negan sneered, biting his lip around a lascivious grin as he waggled his eyebrows. "That's a prime little piece. Good thing you hid her from me."

Carol's hand came to rest on the butt of her gun as she stepped forward. "He was Korean," she said calmly, her free hand reaching out to rest on the small of Rick's back, offering her support. The man had refused to speak to her of what had happened that night they'd been ambushed and Glenn and Abraham had been murdered in cold blood. Yet, it wasn't a secret. Rosita hadn't held her tongue. She'd rushed to inform Carol of all she'd missed during her absence and made it clear she too wanted her revenge.

"And who is this beauty? A silver haired goddess in the midst of all this ugliness," he practically salivated against the bars of the cell. "Your sister? I know for damn sure she ain't your woman, Rick. The samurai don't look like the type to share. Hey there, honey. You the welcoming committee?"

"Don't you fucking talk to her!"

Carol ignored him, her teeth gnashing at the very sound of his voice. Rick shouldn't be down there at all after what he'd been through with this man. He would carry psychological scars just as Daryl would forever carry the scars on his back. "You know why I'm here. Where is he?" she asked, her tone filled with deadly menace.

Rick turned to his right, pointing to a dark cell. "There … cowering in the corner like a cockroach," he spat.

Negan chuckled. "Now why would she want to see dear old Dwight, d'you suppose?" His full lips turned up into a wide grin. "Ahh, I see it now … she's the redneck's woman. Daryl. Didn't leave much of him to come home to you, honey. Can't say I'm too torn up about that. I'd be glad to see to your … _needs."_

Carol met his gaze with her cold stare, red hot rage tinting her vision, for a split second before she palmed her pistol and fired. The bullet tore through the kneecap of his left leg, his howls echoing through the basement prison. Rick's fingers curled gently around her wrist, pointing her gun down at the cement floor as Sasha and Aaron came tearing down the stairs.

"What the hell happened?" the woman muttered, looking from Rick to Carol before glancing inside Negan's cell where he was writhing on the floor.

Rick shook his head and released Carol, feeling she was calm enough to put away her weapon. "Nothing … it's fine. Carol just took offense at something our guest said."

Sasha snorted. "Does this mean we all get a turn?" she asked hopefully.

Rick shook his head.

"One of you unlock the door," Carol demanded as she moved to stand at the bars leading into Dwight's cell.

"Carol –" Aaron began, but one look into her cold blue eyes brought him up short. "You don't have to do this," he tried again. "We understand … we _all_ love Daryl and want to see these people punished for what they did to him. But it doesn't have to be you!" His pleas fell upon deaf ears. He knew what was going to happen, but he didn't have to bear witness to it. He handed the keys to Rick and turned to leave, praying his remaining time on guard duty would pass swiftly so he could return home to Eric.

Carol passed Rick her gun and he raised his brows in askance. "I don't need it to protect myself. You should know that."

"He's not going to leave that cell alive … is he?"

He didn't need to hear her speak the words, the intent written clearly in her eyes. He tucked her gun in the back of his jeans and dropped a kiss to her brow. "Don't be long. Daryl's going to wake up soon and he's going to need you."

"I know." She flipped the switch on the wall, the bare bulb in the ceiling flaring to shine its meager light down on the lone occupant of the cell. She heard Sasha return to her post upstairs, but she knew Rick wouldn't leave her alone with the two men. She ventured further inside, her boot heels light as she made her way to him and crouched beside him. "So, you're Negan's right hand … at least the one still breathing."

Dwight didn't answer, but she could read fear, resignation, guilt and a myriad of other emotions in his wide eyes. "Not by choice," he finally replied when he couldn't stand to meet her gaze any longer.

She dropped her walls completely, unleashing the monster she'd become. She was devoid of anything other than pain. It fueled her, strengthened her, and if she were honest with herself, she'd have to admit it frightened her. Her hand shot out, quick as an arrow fired from a familiar crossbow, striking him so hard his head rolled on his shoulders. "Liar," she hissed. "There is always a choice. Daryl offered you a way out that day in the woods. He offered you safety and comfort within our walls. Did you think I wouldn't know about that? That he wouldn't tell me? Hmm?"

"I-I couldn't … I had to go back. Negan is too powerful," he stammered, reeling from the hit.

"How did you repay _my_ Daryl? You stole from him. You abandoned him in the woods with no weapon, no transportation as you fled with your wife."

Negan's maniacal laughter filled the basement. "Oh, and what a prime piece of ass she was, too!"

"Shut up before I let her shoot you again," Rick snarled.

Carol shut them out, calmly drawing her knife from its leather sheath. "Tell me … were you a party to Daryl's torture?"

Dwight could see a hint of madness lurking in her eyes, and knew without a doubt she was going to end him. "I ain't tellin' you shit, lady!"

Carol sighed wearily, rubbing at the ache in her left temple for but a moment before slamming the blade into his upper thigh. "And see, here I thought we could get past this without so much blood." She drew it back slowly, prolonging his agony, relishing in his screams.

"It was him! It was all him!" he wailed, pointing in Negan's general direction.

She rose to her feet, pacing momentarily. "I doubt that," she frowned, her brows drawing together as she stared down at him. She knelt at his feet and pulled the tattered boot from his left foot. "Let me guess … you were just following orders."

"Yes! Yes, I had to. Otherwise Negan would have killed me and stuck me on the fence."

"Were you there when Daryl's ankle was sprained? When the skin was practically flayed from his back? When his hip was scraped raw?" With each question, the beast within her grew bolder, plunging the knife into his foot and dragging it from ankle to toe, shredding the pale white flesh until she could see the bone and muscle beneath. "Answer me! Or maybe I should have a go at _your_ back? See how long you can withstand the pain?!"

"Carol … " Rick raised a hand to his mouth, fighting back his gorge.

"Oh, that was me, honey. Lucille was a bit thirsty, and that redneck … damn, I ain't never seen anyone so stubborn. I should have put a bullet in his head, but he was just so damn entertaining," Negan chortled.

She trembled with rage. She pulled a bottle of water from one of the pockets of her cargos and took a long drink before emptying the contents over Dwight's head. He sputtered and groaned as he came back to full consciousness. The coward had passed out from the pain. She couldn't help but remember Daryl taking a bolt to his side and then dragging himself all the way back to the farm. This pathetic cockroach didn't know what true pain was, she thought in disgust. She hunched down next to him again and took one of his hands in hers. "What was it Negan threatened, Rick? That he would send Daryl back to you in pieces?"

She held the razor-sharp blade to Dwight's pinky finger and sliced it off before tossing it to Rick. "Pitch that in to his boss, would you?"

"Damn," Negan mumbled. "Shit just got real! I wish I'd have had her on my side. She's a vicious little minx. I kinda like it."

"Please … Please j-just kill m-me," the blonde henchman groaned, tears spilling over his scarred face.

Carol pursed her lips petulantly. "But you haven't answered my questions."

"Anything … whatever you want to know. Just make the pain stop!"

"Tell me what else you did to Daryl," she hissed, venom in her tone as she held her knife to his carotid, a trail of blood leaking down his neck where the tip pricked his skin. "Tell me!" She dug her fingers into the wound she'd made in his thigh, reveling in his cries.

"I made him eat dogfood sandwiches on moldy bread three times a day." He flinched as the point of her blade dug deeper. "We wouldn't let him sleep. Negan had us play a song on repeat … full volume … psychological torture. He wanted us to break him, to make him swear allegiance to our boss, turn him into a soldier. I paraded him around the compound, showing him what would happen to him if he didn't bend." He closed his eyes, waiting for her to land the killing blow, begging a higher power to end his suffering. "I-I'm sorry."

The darkness in her receded, replaced with horror over what Daryl had suffered. She pressed a little deeper with the knife, opening the artery and watching with small consolation as he began to bleed out. Carol rose to her feet and marched out of the cell, her hands and clothes stained with blood.

Rick slammed the door closed behind her. "You didn't finish him." There was a question in his voice, one he was afraid to put to words.

"Let him turn and then toss him outside the walls."

He nodded. He'd given his word he'd allow her to deal with Daryl's tormentor, and he had. He just wished he hadn't had to watch. She hadn't done it for herself, but for the man she loved. Rick prayed he never did anything to cross her, never having witnessed anything so vicious. "Go home, Carol. You don't want Daryl to see you covered in blood. He's been through enough."

Carol nodded, hurrying to the stairs. She ran outside and drew in deep lungfuls of fresh clean air, but it wasn't enough to keep her from emptying the contents of her stomach on the grass.

Aaron rushed to her side, helping her to her feet. "Are you alright?"

"Yes … I just … I just need to clean myself up. I'll be fine."

He watched her pull herself together and make her way to the house she shared with Rick, Michonne, Daryl and the kids, worry evident in his eyes, wondering when she would ever find peace.

 **A/n: Yeahhhhh** **…** **I think I might've gone a bit overboard on the torture, but Carol is not the same person she used to be. After what she went through with Ed, then having to be strong enough to protect her family, what she went through with Lizzie and Mika, Terminus** **…** **etc. Everything that has led her to this point has had a great impact on her soul. You can't do some of the things she's done without developing a bit of a dark side. She's just seen the man she loves at his lowest point, near death, mangled and broken. I think it caused her to break just a little bit more, allowing the darkness within her to fully take over. Daryl is not just going to need her to heal; she's going to need him as well. And it just goes to show how fkn crazy Negan really is. He knows his own death is imminent, yet he's still running his mouth. Hope I haven't crossed a line for y'all, but I have to write where the muse leads. It's gone a long way in helping me cope with the first half of this season, so I'm not sorry for a single word :D Please, drop me a line** **–** **good or bad** **–** **and let me know what you thought. Thanks so much for reading!**


	3. Awake

Chapter Three: Awake

 **A/n: Thankfully, there are no triggers in this chapter that I'm aware of. This chapter is the beginning of their healing together. Happy Reading!**

Daryl cracked one eye open, groaning loudly as awareness crept over him like a plague of locusts. His entire body was on fire, pain radiating intensely from his back. He gnashed his teeth as a shiver trickled over his spine, raising goosebumps on his fevered flesh. His head swam with confusion, his thoughts blending together so rapidly he couldn't discern reality from dreams. Where was he? He'd been moved from his cell, but he didn't remember a room like this one in Negan's compound. The walls were a dark mauve – rather gaudy in his opinion – and he thought perhaps the madman had allowed one of his wives to choose the color. There were blinds on the windows, lacey counterpanes covering them. Windows! Excitement rose in his chest, only to be dashed quickly. If he had been placed in a room with windows, he would bet Negan had posted guards just outside to prevent him from escaping. He shot a sneer towards the white oak door, knowing without a doubt it would be locked as well.

He closed his eyes and sank into the softness of the mattress, wondering why he was being treated so well. It had to be some sort of trick, another ruse to try to break him. Why couldn't he remember? Had they drugged him? Daryl bit down hard on his lip, the taste of copper flooding his mouth as he tried to move, stifling his cry of pain as he maneuvered his legs over the side of the bed. The fire in his back, even from the slightest movement, made him want to slip back into the welcoming darkness of oblivion. _Fuckkkkk!_ There was a moderate gap between the bed and the wall, big enough for two people to lie down if necessary. He would be able to shield himself there, if only for a time until they came back for him. The light was muted, and that infernal music was silent for once. Oh, what he wouldn't give for some rest. Not the unconsciousness which seemed to creep upon him and render him powerless, but true sleep which would help him heal. He needed his strength now more than ever.

Daryl yanked the blankets free from the bed and grabbed his pillow, dragging them into the limited space he'd found, lying down on the cool clean carpet and burrowing beneath it. He eased himself onto his stomach and drew in a deep shuddering breath. Just a few minutes, he prayed. Just a few to slip into dreams which would carry him home to Carol. He couldn't allow himself to think of the hallucinations he'd suffered before, of Rick being in his cell vowing to take him home, or of Carol sitting beside him promising over and over again that she was there for him. The fever ravaging his body played on his deepest desires. They weren't real. Only pain.

*.*.*

"Oh, Carol, you look awful," Maggie mumbled quietly, pulling the older woman into her arms. "You need to rest."

Carol offered up a wan smile. "I'll be ok. I need to be with Daryl, though. Have you checked on him?"

Maggie held out her hand, revealing three Tylenol tablets and a small IV bag containing antibiotics. "I was just going to. You can take these into him if you wish." Carol took them from her – along with a fresh bottle of water from the clinic's refrigerator – and turned to find her way to his room, but the young woman held her back. "Have you eaten anything today?"

She winced. "I had a sandwich Carl forced on me around noon, but I'm really not hungry." _Not after what I've just done._

"Let me know if you need anything or if his fever spikes, ok?"

"I will." Finally, she was free to go to Daryl's room. Though he'd been treated for his wounds, he was by no means out of danger yet.

Her hand shook as she reached out to let herself into the room set aside for his recovery, and her heart plummeted when she took in the empty bed. Pain bloomed in her chest at the onset of panic as she ventured closer to the bed. Where could he be? He'd been sedated and even if he had somehow come back to his senses, he'd be loopy as all hell. He was in no shape to be wandering the streets of Alexandria alone. And how could he have gained access to the outside without anyone noticing him? She set her supplies down on the bedside table and checked the windows, relieved to find them all still locked. The closet proved empty, and there was nowhere else he could have hidden himself. He was too big to fit in the small space under the bed. The IV pole swayed, and she had her answer. Carefully, she crept closer to the bed, bracing a hand against the mattress as she peered over it.

The air rushed out of her in a whoosh, her relief at finding him so great it made her knees weak. She followed the IV line to where it was still taped to his arm curled around his pillow. She hung the bag of antibiotics and dropped down to his side, lifting the edge of the blanket to peer beneath it. He flinched away from the light, no doubt fearing the worst.

"Daryl?" Her voice was soft, soothing, as it would be were she approaching an animal out in the wild. "Pookie, I need you to take something to bring your fever down." He was still burning up to the touch, and it was beginning to concern her.

He scrambled away from her, dragging his blanket and pillow with him, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he inched closer to the bed.

Tears smarted at her eyes, and she pressed her lips into a thin line, fighting to stifle the sob trying to force its way out of her throat. It made her think of Sophia that one time she'd had to coax her from under her bed after one of her fights with Ed. Carol laid down on her side, pressing her face to the carpet, one hand on either side of her head so he could see them, but he'd buried his head beneath the blanket again. Her heart was thundering against her chest cavity, knowing the danger she could find herself in if he lashed out at her.

Daryl had his eyes tightly shut as she reached out and peeled the blanket back away from his face. "Daryl … Baby, please … look at me?" she crooned, unable to hold her tears back any longer. "Please." Her brushed her fingers along the back of his hand, trying to be as non-threatening as possible, and finally he opened his eyes.

Her voice flowed over him like sweet warm honey, filling the cracks in his soul with her presence. He was dreaming again. There was no other explanation. Unless … Oh, god! Had they captured her too? His worst fears realized. How was he ever going to protect her here? Daryl listened to her crooning tone, letting it soothe him for a moment before finally opening his eyes. The soft brush of her hand against his fingers had him reaching out for her, curling around her wrist to draw her closer to him. "Y' really here?" Daryl's smoky blue gaze swept her from top to toe, searching for injuries. "How'd they get y' too? I cain't protect y' here, woman."

"Shh," she shushed him, twining her fingers with his. "You're safe now … you're home. We're at the clinic in Alexandria. Don't you remember?"

The archer shook his head weakly, his long hair falling over his brow. The scent of lavender wafted past his nose, and he couldn't dredge up the slightest protest. It was the best thing he'd smelled in weeks. What _did_ surprise him was that the smell was coming from him. His head was beginning to clear somewhat, but the chills brought on from his fever hadn't lessened. He made an undignified sound at the back of his throat as she pulled away to reach for something behind her.

"Open up, Pookie, and let me check your temperature," she ordered, knowing he was too weak to resist her. She shoved the digital thermometer beneath his tongue and held her hand beneath his chin to help him keep it there. "You had to be sedated when Rick brought you home. The drugs probably messed with your memories a bit. I'm sure they will come back to you eventually," she smiled sadly. She looked down at the display as the thermometer beeped, a frown drawing her brows together. "102.4 … well, at least it's coming down. Do you think you could manage a few Tylenol?"

Didn't she realize by now he'd walk through fire for her? Even after she'd abandoned her family yet again. He ducked his head as he took the fever reducers from her and chugged half the bottle of water. He dropped his head heavily back to the pillow, the small act of taking medicine having drained him. "Y' really here," he rasped, his throat raw and sore from lack of use. And then his face fell. "How long y' stayin' this time?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Daryl."

He snorted into his pillow. "Y' said that before. Then y' wait 'til I have t' go on a run an' haul ass. Thought y' was done with runnin' … that y' wanted t' start over. Why didn't y' come t' me?" He cursed himself inwardly for sounding so weak. Another shiver shuddered through him and he coughed, sending pain through his entire body.

That had Carol shooting up to her knees, a worried frown marring her brow. "Are you in pain? I can get you something."

Daryl reached out to her, his fingers curling over hers as he dragged her back down beside him. He'd dreamt of her for so long, he wasn't letting her out of his sight. He didn't care if he had no other recourse but to crawl. His head was fuzzy from the sedation, and he still couldn't believe it was real, that he was home and with her. "Ain't nothin' I can't handle. Unless, y' jus' don't wanna stay. I can understand after what I done."

He could feel the bitter sting of tears behind his eyes, waiting for her to turn away from him. Surely, someone had told her of what he'd done, how his impulsive quest for revenge had led them to that horrible night in the clearing. He rubbed his eyes against his pillow, hoping she wouldn't notice the wet trail of tears he left behind. Carol had always been able to crack through his walls and make him feel vulnerable. She wouldn't let him hide from her.

Carol stretched out next to him on the floor, scooting as close as she dared, turning her wrist in his hand until she could twine their fingers. "We don't have to talk about this right now, Daryl. You need to rest and heal." She opened her arms wide, inviting him in. His dam of uncertainty broke, and he half crawled atop her, burying his face against her ivory throat. "No one blames you for what happened … _No one_. We're all just so happy to have you back."

He wept silently, his arms slipping around her trim waist and pulling her closer. "My fault … all my fault."

She pressed her lips to his temple, her nimble fingers carding through his hair. "No … you did what you thought was best. I know you, Daryl. I know Denise's death affected you. She was shot with your crossbow by a man you tried to help. It wasn't your fault he wasn't worthy of your compassion."

His grip tightened on her waist. "If I'da stayed … waited just a little longer … I woulda found out y' left. I coulda gone after y' instead. Things woulda been different. Rosita, 'Chonne … Glenn. Maybe they wouldn't've been there that night the others were ambushed. Glen would still be alive," he choked out in a broken whisper.

Carol pulled back just enough so she could look down into his red-rimmed eyes. "You really believe that? Fate has a way of pushing and prodding us right where it wants us to go, Daryl. It's human nature to blame ourselves or sit and ponder 'what ifs'." She brushed away a tear with the pad of her thumb, her lips quirking into a soft smile as he nuzzled into her palm. "Say you'd waited … if you had come after me and somehow dragged me back –"

"Y' doubt it?"

She snorted. "For the sake of argument, say you'd dragged me back. The moment you dropped me at the gate, you would have turned around and went after them. It would have been a little later, but your need for revenge wouldn't have been any different. It's who you are, Daryl. You love deeply and will do anything to protect your family. It's one of the reasons I love you so much." She grimaced, dropping her gaze and hoping she hadn't said too much. "And Glenn's death wasn't your fault. Rosita told me what happened, and how you intervened on her behalf when Negan was taunting her. You were trying to sacrifice yourself for them. How'd you know I'd left, anyway?"

Daryl sighed and closed his eyes, his fingers tugging at the belt loops on her jeans as he fidgeted, reeling over her confession. She loved him, just as much as he loved her. He should have known she'd never blame him, but he still couldn't stop blaming himself. "Carl showed up at th' Sanctuary an' told me y' were missing, that you'd left. It's why …" His voice cracked as another shiver battled its way through him. He couldn't think about that night he'd tried to escape without choking on the fear he'd felt.

Carol trailed her fingers along his arm from shoulder to wrist, hoping her gentle touch would soothe him. "Shh, relax. You're only going to hurt yourself if you don't. You don't have to tell me, Daryl."

"Naw … I'll leave th' secrets t' you. You're better at it than I am." He knew she could hear the bitterness in his tone. He took her leaving as a personal affront, but he'd confide in her as a sign of his trust and hopefully it would encourage her to share that pit of anguish which ate away at her from the inside. "At first, I accepted what they were doin' t' me. I felt like I deserved it for what had happened t' Glenn. I think Negan knew from the beginnin' I wasn't gonna give in an' become his soldier, but it didn't stop him from tryin' t' break me. I couldn't betray m' family like that. Even tried t' escape a couple times."

"You were never meant to be caged, Daryl."

He burrowed further into her neck, breathing her in. It was still so hard to believe he was free … home … with her. "When Carl told me y' were gone, I think somethin' in me kinda snapped. I jus' knew I had t' find y'. I needed t' know y' were alive, safe. I almost made it out that time."

"But he caught you." It wasn't a question. Her fingers toyed with the top edge of the bandage covering his back, careful not to aggravate his wounds.

"Yeah," he nodded, drawing in a shuddering breath. "This time I killed two o' his men. Said he couldn't jus' let that go. Told me I needed a lesson. He had Dwight drag me into th' warehouse in front o' everyone an' strip me to m' waist. Went through this entire speech about how no one was exempt from his rules. I really thought he was gonna give me th' iron – it's what he'd do t' punish his men, stick a red hot clothes iron t' their face – but he was intrigued by th' scars I already carried on m' back." Silent tears coursed over her ashen cheeks as she listened, biting hard on her tongue to stifle her sobs at what he must have suffered. "He dragged that bat o' his over me … over an' over again, Carol. Ain't never felt nothin' like that. When he was finished, I was barely conscious, much less standin'. Then he had Dwight toss a bucket o' salt water on me an' drag me back t' m' cell. Wouldn't let th' doc have a look at me. I don't even know how I was even still alive when Rick came for me."

Daryl closed his eyes and pressed his lips to her collarbone as her fingers returned to card through his hair. He could still remember Negan's saviors and the monotone utterances he demanded from them, the way they prostrated themselves on bended knee to his rule, the stench of fear permeating the air. That was no way to live. Those who made up the Hilltop, the Kingdom – he'd overheard snatches of conversation about them during his imprisonment – and Alexandria … they proved there were still good people out there in the world without preying on others. He wanted to talk to Rick and learn what had happened with the three communities had attacked the Sanctuary, but he was reluctant to let go of Carol. He'd thought his rescue and journey home had been a fever-induced hallucination, but now that he knew it was real, it wasn't hard to piece together what had happened. He just needed confirmation from the man he thought of as his brother.

"Y' said y' love me … that true?" he asked with a wide yawn.

"Have I ever been in the habit of lying to you?" she asked, turning in his arms so she could lay her head on his pillow and wrap the blanket more securely about them both. "I wouldn't have said it if it weren't true." She pressed a kiss to his brow as his head came to rest against her bosom, his face disappearing beneath the blanket, seeking her warmth.

"Then why'd y' leave?"

"Go to sleep, Daryl. We can talk about it tomorrow. I'm not going anywhere, so we have plenty of time to talk," she insisted. If he didn't sleep, there was no way his body would regain enough strength to heal.

"Promise me," he demanded, his voice already slurred with sleep.

She closed her own eyes, content to sleep with him there on the floor. "I promise."

*.*.*

"Fuckkkkk!"

Pain shot to his extremities and cleared his head as sleep fled into wakefulness. He bit back a groan, whatever sound he made muffled against Carol's chest. If he hadn't been hurting so bad, he'd have chuckled at how she had both arms wrapped around his head in a death grip. Despite his ravaged body, he had to admit it was the most rest he'd had in months, due largely to the fact Carol had stayed with him throughout the night. Knowing her, it was probably the most sleep she'd had in a while too.

A familiar throat clearing had Daryl's head shooting up to glare at the corner near their heads. "How's the pain?" Rick asked, pushing a bottle of water and a paper cup filled with an array of antibiotics and pain killers within easy reach.

"Hurts like a bitch," he grunted, inspecting the pills in the cup. "What's this?"

Rick shrugged. "I believe Carson said it was Augmentin, which are the strongest antibiotics he has available, and the yellow ones are Percocet for the pain. He doesn't want to waste the IV antibiotics on you if you can take the oral."

There was also some Tylenol in there for the fever he couldn't seem to shake. Carol would probably want to check his temperature again when she woke up. He tossed the pills back and drank half the water before coming up for air. "How long y' been camped out in here with us?" he asked, eyeing his friend. He didn't know whether or not to be grateful or creeped out the man had chosen to watch over them.

Rick scratched at the two day's growth of beard on his face and rested his head back against the wall. "Couple hours, I guess. Had to make sure the kids were ok first … among other things." He couldn't help but smile at the way the hunter continued to clutch Carol close to his side as if he were afraid to let her go. "Figured I'd come check on you two before the new day got started."

Daryl ducked his head and peered up at Rick from beneath his thick lashes. "Rick … thanks," he murmured gruffly, "for comin' for me."

"I'm just sorry it took so long. It took more time than I'd anticipated to get things together." He sighed. "I never would've let them take you in the first place if I'd have had a choice."

"Know that," Daryl nodded. "What happened, anyway? How'd y' get in?" Ever the warrior, he had to ask, needing to know how his friend had accomplished the impossible. He'd been forced to toil in the compound, and knew the inner workings of the Sanctuary, shift rotations, areas most heavily guarded. He was sure it couldn't have been easy even if Rick had the manpower for an offense.

"Sasha and Jesus. They went in about two weeks ago, staying out of sight to gather intel. It was around the same time Morgan showed up again to tell me where Carol was. We had looked for them for so long, I was sure they were both dead. They introduced us to Ezekiel and the kingdom. Maggie, during her exile at the Hilltop, somehow overthrew Gregory … not that I'm surprised. He was a weak leader. Let's just say, Negan grew comfortable having us all under his thumb. He got sloppy," Rick explained.

"He dead?" Daryl asked, his teeth ravaging the inside of his lower lip.

"Not yet. Morgan is outside on the front lawn arguing with Maggie, Sasha and Rosita right now about killing him," Rick spat in disgust. "He believes all life is precious. I think we should let the girls have him. They suffered the worst, and it might give them a bit of closure."

Carol's nails played over his nape, alerting him of how closely she was listening, but he'd known for a while from the change in her breathing. He'd watched her sleep often enough out there on the road as well as at the prison to know. "His lieutenants?"

"Simon fell at the Sanctuary, but …" Rick suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Y'know, you might want to talk to Carol." He rose unsteadily to his feet, the battle and no sleep not doing his equilibrium any good. "I think I'll go see what I can round up for breakfast."

Daryl frowned. "What ain't y' tellin' me, Rick?"

Their leader paused at the door, a dark flush riding his cheeks as he turned back to his friend. "It's good to have you home, Daryl."

The archer ground his teeth in vexation. He knew Rick better than anyone except Carol, and he could tell when the man was hiding something. And why would he need to talk to Carol about Negan's men? He was going to ask her when there was a knock on the door. Carol groaned right along with him when Maggie entered and called out softly to her.

"We're here, Maggie," Carol sighed, knowing their quiet peace was at an end.

"What are you doing on the floor?" the woman asked, peering over the bed.

Daryl shook his head and buried it under the pillow, so his voice was muffled. He was still hesitant to meet her eyes, worried he'd see accusation there. He wouldn't blame her, but he was in no rush. "Rick already dosed me up if that's why you're here."

Carol sat up and yawned, rubbing at her arms and giving a good stretch to get the kinks out of her back. "Long story. What's up?" she asked, reaching out to feel Daryl's brow with the back of her hand. Thankfully, he wasn't as hot as he'd been just hours ago.

Maggie arched a brow at Carol before her lips curled into a smile at the way Daryl was gripping her waist. "Dr. Carson wants to check Daryl's back now rather than later. Should I get the wheelchair?"

"Hell no!" the hunter growled, his face flaming at the thought of being treated like an invalid. "I can walk." His teeth gnashed and his jaw clenched, but he managed to push himself into a sitting position. His narrowed gaze took in the clean cargos, bandages and overall cleanliness of his battered skin and shot Carol an accusing look. "Y' bathed me?"

"Someone had to. You were filthy and we didn't want the dirt and grime covering you to aggravate your wounds." She rose to her feet and moved to help him up from the floor. "As for walking, that's debatable. You can't use crutches because of your back, and I seriously doubt you have the strength right now to maneuver them, so –"

He surprised her by slinging an arm around her shoulders and relieving the weight off his bad ankle. "Ain't ridin' around in a damn wheelchair, woman. 'Sides … y' won't let me fall, will y'?"

Daryl was rewarded with a blush and a smile as she carefully slid her arm around him and fisted her hand in the waistband of his pants for a good grip on him. "Of course, not. You've caught me plenty of times. Now it's my turn," she whispered softly.

Once Carol had helped him out of their corner, Maggie rushed over to slip beneath his other arm, smiling up at him. "You've caught us all at one time or another, Daryl. Let us take care of you now."

He clamped his lips together as he looked down at her, love and compassion shining in her eyes. Unshed tears smarted at his own when he could see for himself she didn't blame him for anything that had happened. He dragged her in close and dropped a kiss to her crown. "You're my fam'ly." It was all he could manage when his throat was threatening to close off on him.

The pain medication made him unsteady on his feet, but they managed to get him into the main room of the clinic and atop the padded table so the Hilltop's doctor could have a look at him. Daryl ducked his head, letting his long hair fall over his brow to obscure his face. He felt as though he were on display, and he didn't like it. He didn't want them all looking on him with pity in their eyes, or worse. His teeth clamped onto his lower lip, determined to keep from making a sound as he stretched out on the table.

Carol took a seat on the chair they'd brought her last night at the head of the table, pressing a kiss to his brow as he settled. "Are you ok? Those pain pills should have you pleasantly mellow."

"I'm ok. This is club med compared to where I been."

She smiled softly as he linked his fingers with hers. "I'm not going to lie to you … this is going to hurt. But it's going to make you better, and that's what's important. If you want, I could probably ask Carson to knock you out again."

"NO!" he quickly protested, shaking his head which was already muddled. "No more drugs, Carol."

Carol pressed her brow to his. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here. I already know how brave you are, how strong. You know I won't judge you, and I dare anyone else to try."

Daryl snorted and tried to relax the tension from his shoulders. He felt as if someone were branding him with a hot poker, but the drugs he'd been given that morning were slowly easing the pain. "Talk to me?"

"Later … now's not the time." She leaned over to peer into his eyes, not wanting him to mistake her refusal as a rejection. "When we talk, I don't want it to be a distraction from the pain, Daryl. It's going to be … difficult, and I want you to be able to listen without anything else getting in the way." She watched him closely as she inched towards him, her lips brushing the corner of his mouth before pulling back to gauge his reaction. A blush rode his cheeks, but it was the first time she'd seen even a hint of a smile since he'd come through the gates of Alexandria. "I'm ready, Daryl. I'm not going to run again."

"I'll hunt y' down, woman. Don't think for a minute I won't," he warned tersely, the thought of losing her again, especially when he was in no shape to go after her, making his stomach sour. He was glad he hadn't had anything for breakfast.

Carson came in, looking as bad as Rick had earlier, not having slept at all. "How's our patient this morning?" he asked, draining his coffee cup and setting it off to the side next to the cabinet holding their pharmaceutical supplies. "Good to see you lucid, Mr. Dixon. On a scale of one to ten – ten being the worst – how would you rate your pain?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes and shot a look at Carol to gauge whether or not the doctor was serious. At her nod, he shrugged. "How am I s'posed t' know?! It fuckin' hurts, Doc!"

Carson arched a brow and chuffed a laugh. "Ok, I understand. Can you tell me if it hurt more when you woke up or now?"

Carol looked at Carson and gave a gentle shake of her head. Now was not the time to question the archer. "Would you like me to assist you, Dr. Carson?" she intervened before Daryl could let loose his acerbic tongue.

"NO!" Daryl cried, his eyes filled with panic, his hands curling around her wrists to keep her there where he could see her. "Don't leave me." His voice was barely more than a whisper, but Carol could see how afraid he was, how much he needed her. The scars his wounds would leave on his back were nothing compared to what they would leave on his mind.

"That won't be necessary, Carol, thank you. We're just going to have a look and see if the site is clean. There was so much infection. It was a miracle you weren't septic, and we gave you a tetanus shot upon your arrival to ward of serious complications. Don't worry, Dixon, I'm going to be as gentle as I possibly can." Carson took up the scissors and began cutting through the thick bandage. "Just let me know if it becomes unbearable and we'll get you something to help with the pain."

Carol cradled Daryl's face in her palms and made him focus on her, though his grip remained tight around her wrists. She didn't care if she'd have bruises, as long as he found comfort in her. "Breathe, Daryl." Her thumbs brushed soothingly beneath his eyes where dark circles would remain for a long while. She peered over his shoulder, watching the doctor carefully. She'd known it was going to be bad, signs of infection and blood having soaked through the bandages.

Thankfully, Carson kept up a steady stream of commentary, taking them through the process of wound care. Daryl would tense up and stop breathing altogether when the doctor cleaned a particularly bad spot, his grip tightening on her, but he kept his whimpers to a minimum. Carson would ease up for a minute or two until his patient would relax once more and then carry on with his work.

Daryl's head came to rest on her shoulder when Carson dug the packing out of one of the most infectious sites. Carol clung to him, wrinkling her nose as the doctor tossed it away and began disinfecting the site. "Fuck! Y' wanna leave somethin' back there t' stitch together for fuck's sake!" he howled, trying to hide the cry trying to force it's way past his lips.

"Shh, baby, it's almost over. I promise. It's almost over." Her lips grazed against his ear as she sent her best death stare in the doctor's direction. "I've got you, Pookie. I love you. Hold on, baby," she crooned. She was growing agitated, but couldn't let him see it. She had to be strong for him. "How much longer, Carson?"

"Nearly done. The wound site is much improved, what with the wide range of antibiotics we've started him on." He reached for another one of their makeshift bandages and had Carol help Daryl sit up so it could be pinned properly. "I want to see him again this afternoon. If he continues to improve, we should be able to stitch the larger lacerations. He'll still have to be checked twice a day for a week."

Daryl slumped against Carol, resting his head against her shoulder as he fought to keep his breathing steady. "I gotta stay here? I wanna go home," he growled lowly, more than a little irritated with the weak edge he heard in his voice.

Carson snapped off his latex gloves and came around the table. "I want to keep you here until tomorrow under observation. I don't think you understand the severity of your injuries. Mr. Dixon, you very nearly died. You need care right now. If you continue to show signs of improvement, tomorrow I will release you into Carol's care and allow her to take you home."

Daryl breathed a sigh of relief as the doctor took his leave. As bad as his torture had been at Negan's hands, it was nothing compared to Frankenstein scrubbing infection out of his wounds. He shuddered. His only comfort was Carol.

She tilted his chin up, her sweet smile there to greet him as she brushed his hair away from his brow. "How bad is the pain? You should be due for another dose of pain meds. And be honest with me, Daryl. Your body is going to take that much longer to heal if it's fighting your pain as well."

He sighed and ducked his head. "Don't wanna be like Merle," he mumbled.

"You won't. This is to help you heal, not recreational purposes." Carol grinned as his hands came to rest over her hips and dragged her between his parted knees to rest against his chest. She could definitely get used to the comforting circle of his arms.

That was how Rick found them, leaning into each other without a care, as he returned to the clinic. He cleared his throat to gain their attention. Daryl's gaze settled onto the items in his friend's arms, never having thought to see them again. "Thought you might want these back," he grinned.

Daryl kept one arm snug about Carol's shoulders as he let a trembling hand brush over his treasured crossbow where Rick set it on the table next to him. His angel wing vest was set on top of it, along with his zippo and an unopened pack of cigarettes. "How?" he croaked, the lump of emotion welling up in his throat making it hard to speak.

"Your crossbow was with the weapons confiscated from the Sanctuary." Rick smirked as he glanced down at his feet for a moment. "And I believe it was Aaron who very nearly ripped Dwight's arms off trying to get your vest back. I would've had it back to you sooner, but Tara insisted on having it laundered first."

"Thanks, brother," he said, reaching out and clasping his forearm before breaking down completely and pulling him into a hug. Rick was a little teary-eyed himself. When they broke apart, Carol helped him get his arms stiffly through the vest and smoothed it over his chest. His fingers covered hers as he looked at Rick. "He here?"

"Who?"

"Y' know who … Dwight!" the hunter snapped impatiently. "Soon as I'm able, we're gonna have a 'come-t'-Jesus' meeting, me an' him."

Ricks eyes widened as they came to rest on Carol. "Um … that might not be possible."

Carol gave a tiny shake of her head. "Rick, why don't you help Daryl outside onto the porch. I think he could benefit from some fresh air while I go find him something to eat."

Daryl didn't miss the silent exchange between them, but wasn't going to say no to slipping past the four walls which seemed to close in on him with every passing minute. He squeezed her hand tightly in his. It was still hard to let her go. "Hurry back?"

She nodded. "I'll meet you outside." Her gaze was stern when they fell on Rick. "He's not to leave the porch. He's still under Carson's care and he's not to leave the clinic … for any reason."

"Yes ma'am."

Daryl pocketed his zippo and the pack of cigarettes Rick had brought him before letting the man help him outside. The morning held just a bit of humidity which he relished as he stepped out on the porch. The quiet sounds of the community, the assurance afforded by their walls, activity buzzing for so early in the day … it all went a long way in helping the archer return to a sense of normalcy. Or what could pass for normal after what he'd been through. He grunted softly as he let go of Rick's arm and eased himself down on the bench. "A'right, Grimes … y' want t' cut th' shit an' tell me what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Rick asked, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck.

Daryl lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, relishing that first hit of nicotine. "What are y' doing with Negan an' his lieutenants? Y' walkin' around on eggshells, scared t' tell me what's happenin'." He dropped his head in his hand as he took another drag from his cigarette, unable to meet his friend's gaze. "Y' don't trust me anymore? That it? I ain't broken, Rick!"

"I know that!" he said, dropping down on the bench next to his second in command. "I just thought you'd want to talk to Carol first."

"Our, oh, so fearless leader doesn't want to tell you I'm a cold-blooded murderer," Carol said, rounding the bend of the porch and handing him a steaming bowl of oatmeal. She moved to lean against the porch railing, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at Rick in challenge.

"Carol –"

She cut Daryl off, steadily meeting his gaze. "He means well, Daryl, but he doesn't want to tell you what I did. I'm not going to lie to you … I never have, but I would have liked to postpone this conversation."

"Christ, woman, what did you do?" he asked, his troubled blue gaze boring into her.

She sighed. "I went to see Dwight once he'd been brought to the cells. After I saw what they'd done to you … I couldn't let that stand."

"Y' killed him," he said flatly, shoving his bowl at Rick and rising unsteadily to his feet.

Rick snorted. "No … she maimed, tortured and _then_ killed him, after which she ordered him tossed out the front gates to turn. He's been banging around out there for the past couple hours."

Daryl whirled around to look at him, tossing his cigarette butt onto the lawn, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Y' find this amusin'?!"

"What?! Of course, not!" Rick set the bowl down and shot to his feet, lowering his voice before things escalated. "Damnit, Daryl, I saw what they did to you. When I saw you … laid out on the floor of that cell, I thought you were dead. You're my best friend, my _brother_." He swiped a hand over his face as he fought for control. "I don't blame Carol one bit for taking her pound of flesh from that bastard."

The hunter resumed his seat on the bench, wishing he'd have taken Carol up on her offer of more pain medication. Instead, his stomach rumbled and he reached for the cooling bowl of instant oats mixed with some of the freshly harvested strawberries from the garden. He ate silently until the bowl was empty. He could understand why she'd felt she needed to have her revenge, but he was rather bitter because he'd been denied the pleasure of ending the man himself.

"What about Negan?" Daryl finally asked.

Rick sighed and leaned a shoulder against the wall. "Maggie, Rosita and Sasha have asked to play executioner. Most of the council is still out deliberating on what should be done to him. Morgan is arguing 'blood begets blood' and his go to line of 'all life is precious'." Rick shook his head. "I don't know what to do about him."

Daryl brought his hand up to his mouth to gnaw at his thumbnail as he thought it over. "Y' should let th' girls do it … for Glenn an' Abe. They've suffered th' most. It should be them."

"He's right, Rick," Carol added in a somber tone. "It won't make the pain go away, and it might not be the moral choice, but it will give them some kind of closure. That psychopath cannot be allowed to live. We can't give him a chance to go out there to start over again, to do this to other communities, and we don't have the resources to imprison him for any length of time."

"And then they might not wait on th' council's decision an' take matters into their own hands," Daryl pointed to the street where the women had just left Maggie's house and were headed to the basement jail, Lucille gripped tightly in the brunette's hand. Morgan was hurrying after them, doing his best to change their minds.

"Well, shit!" Rick left them there on the porch, running hell bent towards them. "Maggie! Maggie, wait! We need to talk about this!" he yelled after the three women. He knew it was futile, but he had to try.

Daryl pushed himself to his feet, shaking his head over what he knew was going to happen, and reached for Carol, slinging his arm over her shoulders. "Think I'll take y' up on that pain pill y' offered earlier. Then we're gonna talk."

Carol bit her lip, not at all looking forward to that conversation. "Are you mad at me?"

He grunted noncommittally and let her lead him back inside.

 **A/n: I'm sorry to those who were looking for a more gruesome end for Negan, but I felt I'd reached my gore limit with Dwight. I really hope y'all enjoyed the chapter :D Carol and Daryl are heading to a better place in their relationship and that is my main goal with this fic. Thanks so much for reading!**


	4. Revelation

Chapter Four: Revelation

"You should rest," Carol said, glancing down at the freshly made bed, his pillows and blankets back in their proper place. "Did you want me to make you a pallet on the floor … or will the bed do this time?" She was as skittish as a colt. There would be no escaping him now, nor could she postpone the little chat he had demanded earlier. She would have continued to put it off, but she was coming to find a wounded Daryl could be just as persistent as a healthy Daryl.

He flopped down heavily on the side of the bed and stretched his bad ankle, hiding the wince threatening to mar his brow, his gaze never leaving hers. "Soon," he mumbled, his hands coming to settle over the smooth curve of her hips as he pulled her down to sit on his good leg.

Carol gasped, her hands bracing against his chest as he held her to him. "Daryl! What are you doing?"

 _Fight or flight._ It was written all over her face. How many times had he seen it on his own over the course of his lifetime. She could fight him all she wanted, but there was no way in hell he was letting her go. "Keepin' y' from runnin'. Y' think I can't see it all over y', how much y' want t'?"

"I'm not," she insisted, forcing herself to relax. She didn't want to hurt him when he'd already suffered too much. She calmed her breathing and closed her eyes, focusing on his gentle arms around her, his scent enveloping her warm and welcoming.

"Y' are, woman. Here …" he pressed his scarred fingertips to her brow. "And here …" he said again as he rested his hand over her heart. It was then he tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. "When y' gonna learn there ain't _nothing_ y' can't tell me? It goes both ways, y'know? Y' ain't got t' do it alone."

She let her hands fall to her lap. "I didn't want to burden you. You carry the whole weight of our family on your shoulders, Daryl. I didn't want to add to it."

"So, what … y' bury it all inside until y' cain't take it anymore?" he asked gently, tightening his hold on her. "Is that why you left? I thought y' were enjoyin' your little intrigues … your little romance." It left the bitter taste of bile in his mouth, but he wasn't going to fly into a jealous rage. Not now when she was finally willing to talk to him.

Carol pursed her lips and gently pushed against his chest to get him to release her. He didn't budge. "It wasn't like that. It … _everything_ … just got to be too much. I felt dead inside, Daryl. I didn't know who I was anymore and I just needed to _try_ to feel something. I used him. It's just another thing in a long list of things I'm not proud of."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, letting his hands fall to her waist.

"For what?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"Not bein' there when y' needed me."

"Daryl, we were all trying to adjust to this place, to find our niche." She rose from his lap and began to pace. "Then there was Pete abusing his family and Rick lusting after Jessie and the mess that followed. Me playing happy housewife, you leaving sometimes for weeks at a time on recruiting missions and the ever-present walkers at the gate. It was too much! We can never catch a break." She hurried back to his side to help him take his vest off, taking it and laying it over the dresser pushed against one wall. "Are you alright?" she asked, not having missed the groan.

"Take your boots off an' come lay down with me. M' back's killin' me an' I cain't sit up anymore," he grumbled petulantly. "I fuckin' hate this."

Carol did as he asked, rounding the bed as he eased onto his stomach and looked expectantly at her. He frowned at the distance between them. "You should have come straight back to bed after Carson treated you. I just thought you could use the fresh air."

Daryl rolled his eyes at her gentle scolding and wrapped his arms around his pillow, propping his chin on it so he could hold her gaze. "Nag, nag, nag. Is this how it's gonna be now?"

"Now? I've always been like this."

"Pfft."

" _How_ is it going to be now, Daryl?" she whispered, her eyes luminous in the soft lighting from the bedside lamp.

His eyes darkened considerably, his sharp teeth working furiously at his lip as his arm crept across the mattress to snake about her waist. He held her gaze, leaving himself open and vulnerable, his heart on his sleeve as he dragged her closer to him. He assumed the position he'd held the previous night, his arm secure about her waist, his thigh wedged between her own, his lips hovering at her ear, his warm breath teasing her. "What do you _want_ , woman? I know what _I_ want, but I can't know what _you_ want unless y' tell me. I'm not a mind reader." He pressed a sweet kiss to her jaw before leaning back enough to look down into her sloe-lidded azure eyes. Had that one chaste kiss stirred her as it had him? "I just want to protect y'. I want y' at my side, Carol. I want y' t' come t' me when somethin' is botherin' y' … I don't care how small. I jus' want _you."_

Tears glistened on her lashes, nearly too overcome with emotion to speak. It was more than he'd ever spoken about his feelings before … feelings for _her_. She cradled his beloved face in her hands, a bittersweet smile touching her lips. "You won't want me when you know what I've done."

Daryl leaned into her touch, watching a small smile bloom on her lips as he rubbed his scruff affectionately against her palm. "Don't care whatcha done in the past. Ain't nothin' worse than what I've had t' do. We get t' start over. 'S many times as we need t'. Jus' stay, Carol." He dipped further into her hold and raked his teeth over the delicate tracery of veins in her wrist, reveling in her gasp. "Y'know I love y', right?"

Carol broke down in great heaving sobs, covering her face with her hands as she tried to turn away from him to hide her pain. He wouldn't allow it, however; choosing to hold her against his chest and rid herself of everything she'd bottled up for so long. The tremors shaking her slender form transferred to his with each sob, sending a fresh jolt of agony through his wounds, but he pushed it aside. Nothing was more important to him than her and what _she_ needed from him in that moment. How many times had she pulled him back from the edge? At the farm, he'd unleashed his unbridled anger on her and she'd refused to give up on him, he'd left after Woodbury with Merle and she'd welcomed him back with open arms, he'd had to put his brother down when the governor had left him to turn, and she'd dried his tears and given him a reason to keep fighting. She was everything to him.

When her sobs quieted, she told him about her actions – in detail – which had gotten her banished from the prison, of the betrayal she'd felt to have Rick leave her behind, severed from her family … from _him._ Carol went on to unburden her darkest secrets, of how she'd lost the girls and then confessed to Tyreese of Karen and David's murders in the hopes he would end her suffering. His heart had nearly stopped, his fear so great he could feel the panic welling up behind his breastbone. She apologized for being so cold when they'd hied off to Atlanta in search of Beth. She'd only been trying to protect her heart when she knew she couldn't stay with him in the end. He let her talk without interruption – mostly – until early afternoon. Already, he'd had to postpone his appointment with Carson twice, waving Tara out the door, wearing his darkest scowl.

"I didn't leave _you_ , Daryl. I was running from me," she confessed, tucking her joined hands up beneath her chin and trying to burrow further into his embrace. The stronger I become, the more of myself I lost. I'm a monster. I more than proved that to Rick last night when … oh, god, what I did to Dwight. I should have left him to the council, but I couldn't let it go. When I saw what he'd done to you …"

"You're not a monster," he rasped, his lips pressing to her brow as she poured her anguish out in silent tears. "Monsters don't show remorse or regret." He loosened his grip on her just enough so he could lean back to see her face. "That woman I met so long ago at the quarry? She's still in here," he vowed, tapping a finger against her chest. "Still fightin' for her family, for me. Yeah, you've gotten strong an' capable. Hell, you're one of th' fiercest fighters I know … but not without a reason. It's what humans do, Carol. We grow and evolve, otherwise we won't survive. We're still here … still tryin'. We ain't ashes, woman."

"Do you hate me? For the things I've done?" she asked, fearful of his answer.

"Hate being without y'," he admitted so readily. The time for waiting and hiding from his feelings was over. If they were going to heal, it would be done together. "When y' ran, where did y' go? How'd Rick find y'?"

Carol drew in a deep calming breath at his easy forgiveness. "I didn't have a clear destination in mind. Not really. I just knew I needed to run. I ran headlong into trouble too. I encountered a group of saviors on the road … gave them a chance to turn around and leave, but –"

"They didn't wanna take good advice?"

She hummed in agreement. "I thought I took care of them all, but there was one who followed me. I was wounded, praying for an end, waiting for it when Morgan found me. Some of the Kingdom's scouts found us and took us to Ezekiel. They treated my injuries and took me to see their king. He's quite a character," she chuckled, the first light-hearted sound he'd heard since she'd first begun her tale. "But I couldn't remain there either, Daryl. I needed to be alone where I didn't have to kill anymore." She sighed and rolled onto her back, reaching up to trail her fingers over his jaw. "Morgan was worried about me. He somehow learned Rick was looking for me and told him where I was. I was going to turn him away when he told me about Glenn and Abraham, but after he told me Negan was holding you as his prisoner, I couldn't hide away anymore. You needed me."

"Always have. Y' th' only one ever found good in me, made me want things I didn't think I deserved," he murmured softly, resting his head against her shoulder. "Wasn't 'til after Merle died … that's when I realized how much I loved y' … more than just a friend. At first, I was afraid things would change, that if y' didn't feel th' same, I'd lose our friendship."

Carol bit her lip, saddened that he thought so little of himself. "I'd never turn my back on you, Daryl. Trust never came easy for me in the past – Ed saw to that – but with you … with you it's easy. I know you would never betray me, never break my heart …" She let her lips find his cool brow as her fingers toyed with the ends of his hair. "You should have told me."

"I was going t'," he said a little defensively. "And then that flu broke out at th' prison. I got scared. What if somethin' happened t' y'? What if somethin' went wrong on th' run t' th' vet college an' I didn't make it back? So, I made a choice. I was gonna tell y' when I got back. Didn't know Rick was gonna go all dumbshit on us while I was gone."

Carol shrugged. "He had his reasons." Though she'd forgiven Rick, there were still times she felt bitter over her banishment.

"Bullshit," Daryl huffed. "He was bein' an asshole! An' what made it worse was him pullin' that shit when I wasn't there. He knew! He knew I never woulda stood for it."

"And if he hadn't done it? Where would we all be?" she asked, arching a brow. "Fate is a funny thing, Daryl. What if I'd have stayed? There's no guarantee I would have made it out of the prison alive."

"I woulda got y' out," he insisted, nuzzling her collarbone.

"Think what would have happened to Ty and the girls? Would Lizzie have succeeded in killing Judith just as she did Mika? How would Tyreese have handled that? What if I'd have been captured along with the rest of you at Terminus? Who would have been there to save you?"

Daryl frowned darkly. "A'right, I get your point. Still didn't make it any easier t' be separated from y'. I was gonna tell y' that first night we made camp after we all got out o' Terminus, but I could tell somethin' was off with y', so I waited. An' I kept waitin' because it just never seemed t' be th' right time. Bob, going t' Atlanta, y' almost dying, losing Beth and then Ty, livin' on th' road again, findin' this place …" He smirked up at her. "You playin' Suzie homemaker, Tobin." That last one left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I thought I was gonna die this last time, an' all I could think was I hadn't told y'."

Carol frowned, hoping they had something to salvage. There had always been so much standing in their way before. What if the next threat they faced tore it all down? "Are you sure? Do you really think we can have a second chance?"

"Yeah, I do. Long as y' want t' be with me. I ain't goin' nowhere, Carol … not without y'."

She stretched as he wrapped his arm more firmly around her waist, dragging her flush with his body. Her fingers trailed along his jaw, tangling in the scruff on his chin as she pulled his down to meet her lips. Soft and sweet, how she'd always expected it would be between them. He'd never been anything but gentle and protective with her. And when he healed from his injuries, she wanted to see another side of him, one ignited with desire and passion. "I love you."

"Alright, Dixon!" Tara called from the now open doorway. "You're not running me off again, no matter how much you snarl at me. Carson wants you in the exam room … NOW! You can make out with your honey later."

Carol gasped as she got a look at the wind-up clock on the bedside table. "Daryl! We should have been to see the doctor hours ago. Why didn't you say anything?!"

Daryl buried his face in the pillow and groaned as his woman rose from the bed and reached for her boots. "We was talkin'. It was more important."

"Move it, Dixon," Tara smirked. "Or I'll go get Rick to make you."

Daryl sat up carefully on the side of the bed, fire coursing through his back, the toes of his good foot curling into the carpet. Even banged up, bruised and tortured, he knew Rick wasn't a match for him. "I think I can take 'im."

*.*.*

"Daryl?" Carol murmured groggily, fighting her way back from sleep. She instantly missed his warm weight, having had him pressed to her side for most of the day and night. Her breath hitched painfully in her chest as she raised to her elbows. The sheets were cool where he'd lain, and panic took root in her heart. She threw the blanket off her and reached for her boots, not bothering with more than half the buckles before she grabbed her jacket and pounded out of the room.

The main room of the house which had been converted into the clinic was quiet, one lone occupant dozing behind the desk. There were few patients now, only the more serious cases sequestered in the remaining rooms. She tried to keep her steps light as she hurried towards the front door and out onto the wrap-around porch. Where was he? Her chest hurt with the onset of her panic, the potential for a full-blown anxiety attack very real. There were patrols everywhere, watch rotation for the wall and gate, not to mention people ambling about during their down time. Someone must have seen him leave the clinic. She'd go door to door if she had to.

"Miss Carol, ma'am?"

Her hand automatically curled around the hilt of her trench knife, a reflex as she turned towards the voice on the darkened street. "Yes? Ben?" Recognition flashed briefly in her eyes, remembering the boy who'd come to her cottage with Ezekiel for her weekly delivery. He was a hard worker, and had put in the time and effort to learn the bow staff under Morgan's tutelage.

"Yes, ma'am." He stepped into the muted light provided from a single bulb on the porch. "You seem to be agitated … is there something I can help you with?"

She moved down the steps to meet him halfway, coming to a stop on the curb. "I seemed to have misplaced my patient. My … er … _Alexandria's_ hunter, Rick's first lieutenant … about yea high," she said, holding her hand a few inches above her own head. "Long hair, smoky blue eyes, angel wing vest? Seen anyone like that?"

His boyish smile widened when he was able to give her an affirmative. "Yes, ma'am. He's with Carl at the gate."

"The gate?!" she gasped. She nodded at the boy and hastened her steps, fretting over what might be running through Daryl's mind to have brought him all the way out there. Carol waved him off as he moved to follow. "Thank you, Ben."

She had to force herself to slow down. If he heard her running up behind him, there was a good chance he'd react badly. Even if he hadn't been through such an ordeal, it would have had his guard up in an instant. It was a surprise to see he'd grabbed half a pair of crutches from the clinic before venturing out for his evening stroll. At least she didn't have to worry over his sprain. His back, however … she could only hope he hadn't damaged the repairs Carson had labored over that evening. It was only because Daryl was a quick healer that the doctor had been able to glue and stitch him back together. The strong cocktail of antibiotics and anti-inflammatories didn't hurt either.

As Carol drew closer to the gate, a spear of guilt shot through her. The main gate was closed, but the screen had been pulled open to allow Daryl to look out onto the road beyond where a solitary walker slammed his body against the iron bars, his thin arms reaching in towards the living. She didn't want to watch and have to look upon the evil she'd wrought. "Close the screen, Carl," she commanded firmly as she neared Daryl.

"Leave it," the hunter countered, his orders superseding hers.

The boy looked torn, his gaze ghosting back and forth between the two, but he was all about chain of command and wouldn't dream of disobeying Daryl. Carol sighed, almost afraid of what she'd see in Daryl's eyes.

"Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd come out for a smoke," he murmured softly, his deep gravel voice drawing her in, forcing her gaze up to his. "Didn't mean t' worry y'. Hadn't planned on comin' down here."

Carol released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding as he reached out and drew her into his side, his long rough fingers kneading gently at her nape as she tucked her head beneath his chin. "I just don't want you to try to do too much too soon. You have to give yourself time to heal, Daryl."

"Hard t' relax with devils at th' gate. Merle used t' say that a lot. He'd start drinking an' shootin' up … start seein' shit, hallucinatin'. Next thing he'd be screamin' about devils an' demons comin' t' steal his soul. Devils at th' gate." He soothed his hand over her back, drawing comfort from her pressed so trustingly into his side. He nodded at the walker slamming into the gate. "Never thought I'd actually see it like that y'know?"

Her fingers curled over the handle of her trench knife. "I should have let Rick put him down. You didn't need to see this." She began to pull away, intent upon ending what was once Daryl's tormentor, but his grip tightened on her, anchoring her in place.

"Y' did what y' thought was best. I ain't never judged y', Carol. You've always acted t' protect your fam'ly." He spoke softly, knowing all too well the guilt she was feeling.

Her lower lip trembled as she fought against the tears stinging her eyes. "I've never deliberately tortured anyone before, Daryl. Back at the farm … when you beat information out of Randall … I accused you of being Rick's henchman. I didn't understand then, and I'm sorry. That was when you'd finally decided this group was yours and you'd do anything within your power to protect us."

Daryl propped himself better to lean on his crutch and brought his hand up to brush away her tears. "Naw, not th' group. It was when I knew I'd do anythin' t' keep _you_ safe." He tilted her chin up to ghost a kiss across her lips. "S'always been about y', Carol."

Her fingers curled into the front of his vest, unfastened over his bare chest, clinging to him. "I thought if I were alone, if I didn't need to kill to save someone I loved, if I could just hide, I could somehow quell the darkness in me."

"No one can make it alone anymore," he reminded her of Andrea's last words the night she died in that dungeon in Woodbury. "Y' got fam'ly, friends … _me_. Protectin' those y' love is just a part o' this world now, Carol. Y' kill t' save us. We kill t' save you. It's not a choice, but a necessity."

"Then why do I feel so hollow?" She knew he was right, but it didn't rid her of the ache in her chest.

"Because you're a good person … best one I know. Y' think I don't feel it when I have t' make th' tough decisions out there? When I make th' wrong one an' it comes back t' bite us all in th' ass?" he spat bitterly, his eyes narrowing on Dwight. "If I hadn't tried t' help him, maybe Denise would still be alive. Maybe if I hadn't agreed with Rick t' take Negan's outpost, y' an' Maggie wouldn't've been captured. If I hadn't gone after Dwight for revenge, I wouldn't've gotten shot … Glenn an' Abe wouldn't be dead."

"They would've found another way in." Carol's heart ached as his head dropped to her shoulder. He wasn't trying to hide his pain, he was sharing it with her. Pain shared is pain lessened. She'd told him that ages ago, when they'd lost Merle. It had been the first time he'd truly let her in. Now, she doubted he would be so willing to help others, and it saddened her. His heart was so filled with compassion and mercy, but his capacity to trust had been decimated. "It's not your fault, Daryl. You tried to help him and he paid you back in spades, betraying you, stealing from you, hurting you. He wasn't worthy of your goodness, baby." She brushed away the tears he'd shed and offered him a sad smile.

"Least he cain't hurt nobody else. Negan either."

"Yeah?"

Daryl nodded. "Carl told me th' girls spent three hours down in th' basement with th' bastard. Wasn't much left o' him when they got done with him. Morgan was so pissed because Rick allowed it, he left … went back t' th' Kingdom. Hope he stays there with his mind fuck games. Don't care how good a fighter he is or how much we could use 'im. I don't want 'im screwin' with your head no more."

She nodded. "I think that would be best for everyone."

He pressed his brow to hers. "Y' glad t' be home?"

"I'm glad to be with you. Everything else will come with time … for the both of us." She pulled away and looked back down the street towards the clinic. She couldn't help but notice the lines of pain around his mouth and eyes. "Come on. We need to check your temp and get another round of antibiotics in you. Then you need to rest or Carson isn't going to release you in the morning."

Daryl let his gaze wander back to the gate, his hand wrapping around the buck knife on his belt Carl had retrieved from his room at the house. He hoped his other would be found once everything looted from the Sanctuary had been sorted, but this one would do for now. "Jus' gotta take care o' somethin' an' then we can go back."

Carol bit her lip. Oh, how she wanted to protest, not wanting him to pop his stitches, but she couldn't deny him the satisfaction of putting the walker down. The usual night sounds indigenous to their small community ceased, the cicadas and crickets seeming to hold their collective breaths, the only sound ringing through the stillness that of his crutch softly striking the pavement and walker Dwight's low moaning growls. Carl's brow creased with a worried frown, shooting a questioning glance at Carol, but she shook her head. This was Daryl's decision, his closure, his chance to begin healing. She wouldn't take that away from him.

Her archer paused for a long moment, out of reach of the walker's grasping hands and snapping jaws, the gate holding him back. Daryl stared, forgetting nothing of what he'd endured at his hands. He'd felt, at the time, that he'd deserved what was being done to him … penance for Glenn. Now he knew he couldn't cling to that belief any longer, otherwise, he'd never heal. He'd never be the man he needed to be for his family … for his woman. He'd been granted another chance in a long list of many, and he wouldn't squander it.

Enid came down off the parapet on the wall and Carl set his rifle down, each of them grabbing for one of Dwight's grasping arms, holding him in place against the gate, silently assuring Daryl they were there for him, supporting him. The knife slid easily into the thin bone at the temple, the dead light fading from the yellowed eyes as the moaning ceased and the body went slack. And with it, Daryl buried his guilt and pain in some dark corner of his battered soul where he vowed not to let it intrude on what he wanted to build for his future. He had a life to build with Carol, not just the day to day survival they were all accustomed to now, but a community to rebuild and make strong … with his family.

Carol slipped her arm around his waist, below the heavy bandage beneath his vest. "Pookie … you're barefoot."

The kids snickered as they let the walker drop to the pavement outside the gate. Someone else could remove it for burning in the morning. "Such cute toes too," Enid retorted dryly.

"Pfft," he scoffed, watching the two teenagers go back to their duties.

Daryl arched a brow at Carol as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and let her steer him back towards the clinic. His back was on fire and he really wanted that incredibly soft bed awaiting him in his appointed room. Mostly, he just wanted to lie down and pull her beneath him, to lay his head in the crook of her neck and breathe her in. To find solace in her arms. The corners of his mouth quirked up into a half smile. "Guess y'all thought I couldn't get too far without m' boots."

Carol sighed, leaning into him to lend her support. "They always underestimate you. Don't worry … I'll fetch some from home before you're released in the morning."

"Home …"

 **A/n: So, they've nothing to hide from one another anymore. It's all about healing now, not to say there won't be a few pitfalls along that road, but nothing too terrible. And he's had closure where Dwight was involved. Carol ended him first, and Daryl got to end him for good. I cannot say enough how much I loathe Dwight. UGH! Anywho! I hope you all enjoyed it. Please comment and let me know :D Y'all are awesome!**


	5. Home

Chapter Five: Home

"Woman!"

Carol arched a brow at him, daring him to argue. Rick hovered near Daryl's right side, ready to catch his friend if he happened to overbalance on the single crutch. He'd been released from the clinic, with strict instructions from Dr. Carson as to his care and a verbal thrashing for sneaking out the night before to take a stroll on his own. He'd popped two stitches, and Carol had been just as upset as the doctor when they'd discarded his bandages that morning for his wound care.

"Sit," she commanded, pointing to the two-person seat on the back of the golf cart.

"It's two blocks! I can fuckin' walk that far, Carol," he growled, glowering at her.

She shook her head stubbornly. "It's a shorter distance between the clinic and the gate than it is from the clinic to our house." She softened her tone. "Why tire yourself out and risk further injury when you don't have to? Your pride will survive, Daryl."

Rick's hand came to rest at the hunter's elbow as Daryl swayed unsteadily. "She's right, brother. It'll take two minutes at the most to get you home. And it'll do everyone some good to see you out of the clinic, getting your strength back."

Daryl transferred his glower to his best friend. "Why y' always gotta take her side?"

Rick leaned over so only Daryl could hear. "Ever hear the saying: _Don't bite the hand that feeds you?"_

"Fuckin' traitor." He eased himself down on the rear seat of the cart and groaned. It wasn't going to be easy trying to ride in the damn thing when he couldn't rest his back against the seat. He had to hold himself ramrod straight, and it had his muscles screaming in agony. Thankfully, the Hilltop doctor had given Carol a bag full of pain medicine and antibiotics, dressings, gauze, alcohol and even a spare suture kit to take home with them.

He hissed as Rick climbed into the front seat next to Eric and it jostled the cart. "It's good to have you back, Daryl," Aaron's partner chimed as he eased the cart into motion. "Carol says you're going to be housebound for a while. Guess we'll have to move spaghetti Tuesday to your house, yeah?"

Daryl grunted.

"That sounds lovely, Eric. We'd love for you to come cook at the house," Carol said warmly. She wasn't about to let Daryl wallow in bed for the remainder of his recovery and sink even deeper into his depression than he already had.

His mood lightened exponentially as they pulled up before the house they all shared. The only thing missing was a shingle hanging from the eave "Grimes & Dixons". There had been a time as he lay wallowing in that filthy cell when he'd truly believed he'd never see his home again. And it truly was his home. As long as Carol was there with him. That belief was reinforced a hundredfold as she slid her palm against his and twined their fingers together.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly as Eric and Rick exited the front.

"Wha … yeah, yeah, I'm ok."

Carol wrapped one hand firmly around his forearm, the other around his bicep and helped him to stand while he got his crutch situated. "You'll be fine. It was a bit overwhelming to me when I came back too," she whispered, zeroing in on what was wrong.

Daryl took a deep breath and maneuvered himself onto the sidewalk, slowly making his way to the front steps. His entire body was screaming in pain, his nerve endings on fire, but he wouldn't allow anything of what he was feeling to reveal itself on his face. He was a warrior, not a fucking broken down shell of a man, he tried to tell himself. Maybe if he repeated it continuously, he'd begin to believe it. His first obstacle met them at the top of the steps where Michonne stood, holding Judith on her hip.

He could already feel the tears stinging at the back of his lids. How had she grown so much in just two months? The little girl's bright blue eyes lit with happiness as she held her arms out to him, leaning over as far as Michonne would allow in an effort to reach him. Carol was unsure if his body could take it, but when the child began to wail her upset, Daryl didn't care. He gently shook off his woman's fierce grip and held his arms out to Judith. He felt Rick's hand settle against his waistband, gripping it to hold him steady as Carol adjusted her own grip on his arm. They weren't going to deny him this moment with the youngest Grimes.

"Hey there, Asskicker. Shh, baby, it's a'right," he crooned. The toddler instantly stopped fussing and nestled her face against his throat, her fingers tangling in the scruff at his chin. "Missed y' too, baby girl. Y' been givin' 'em hell? Yeah?"

Rick shot him a solemn smile. "She _did_ miss you, Daryl. We all did."

His eyes were pleading when he glanced up at Michonne to take the girl. Despite how much he wanted to stand there holding Judith – who would always hold a special place in his heart – his arms trembled and his legs felt like rubber. Michonne reached for the now happy child, and cradled her against her shoulder. "Haven't lost your touch with her, I see," she teased.

"Let's get you up to your room," Carol said firmly, not having missed the tremors ghosting through his body. His evening stroll the night before had done nothing good for his recovery. Though, she couldn't expect any less from her archer, doing too much too soon. "You need to rest."

He grumbled sullenly under his breath, but didn't protest, following her into the house.

By the time they'd gotten him upstairs, he was exhausted and his lip was bloody from where he'd bitten it to stop himself from making a sound. "Thought y' wasn't gonna hover, woman," he growled lowly, not even questioning the fact they'd brought him to Carol's room and not his own.

Eric snorted as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. "Have you ever known her not to be hovering protectively over someone? She's a natural born caregiver. I'd barely known her for a day and she coddled me all the way back to Alexandria."

Carl shouldered his way into the room with a freshly laundered pile of Daryl's clothes and set them on the dresser. His wide eye settled on Daryl as Rick and Carol lowered the hunter to sit on the side of the bed, his adam's apple bobbing nervously. "Hi … uh … welcome home," he stammered.

Daryl's features hardened as he stared at the teenager. "Don'tcha 'hi' me, boy," he hissed. "What th' hell were y' thinkin' sneakin' into Negan's compound? Y' daddy ain't got enough t' worry about with everythin' that was goin' on? Y' had t' try an' get yourself killed!?"

Carl winced. He showed none of the balls of steel bravado he'd shown to both their enemy and his father. Daryl had always had an uncanny ability to see through the bullshit, and Carl knew there was no point in pretending otherwise. "I was trying to help. Dad was a mess, everyone was bowing and scraping for that asshole, he had you held prisoner –"

"Don't excuse what y' did, Carl," Daryl fumed. "How could it help if Rick woulda had t' bury you too?" His head swung around to stab his brother with an icy glare. "Y' at least grounded him, right? Put 'im on clean up or some shit?"

Rick looked away guiltily. "We … um … we were kinda busy."

"So, brother … y' gonna address th' problem? Or y' gonna stick y' head in th' mud, ignore it an' let 'im think he can jus' keep doin' whatever he wants?"

"OK!" Carol interrupted before he could work himself up any further. "Everybody out. Daryl needs rest. You can visit later." She shooed them all towards the door, her tone brooking no objection.

Daryl refused to look at her where she leaned back against the door, arms crossed obstinately over her chest. Instead, he unfastened the snaps on his vest and tried unsuccessfully to lower it off his shoulders. He could barely see through the haze of pain he was in, but he hadn't wanted drugs interfering with his trek home. He wanted to remain lucid for his family. Of course, his woman missed nothing. She was nearly as observant as he was. She stomped over to the bed where she'd dropped his bag and rummaged inside until she found a bottle of pain medicine.

Carol knew just how much he was suffering when he didn't argue, but took the pills from her and drained half a bottle of water. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?" she asked, her hands soothing on his battered flesh as she pushed his vest down the length of his arms and hung it over the bedpost.

He grunted in reply, still refusing to meet her gaze. "So, we sharin' a room now?" he opted for a subject change.

She pressed her lips together to fight back a grin and carded her fingers through the long locks falling over his brow. "We're together now. And my room is more comfortable than that bare attic space with a mattress on the floor, Daryl. So, I had Carl move your things in here. Was I wrong to assume you'd –"

He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face against her soft belly, sighing in contentment. "I want t' be wherever y' are," he admitted, feeling the tips of his ears burn a fiery red.

Carol held still, giving him the comfort he so desperately needed. Yet, she still needed to get him settled before his pain meds knocked him out. She dropped a kiss to the top of his head and untangled herself from his arms, fetching a pair of cotton sleeping pants from the dresser. She set them on the bed and knelt to tug his boots off, which he allowed grudgingly, but his hands caught hers when she reached for the buckle of his belt.

"Daryl –"

"I can't do it!" he fairly snarled. He'd been taking care of himself all his life, he could change his own goddamn pants.

Carol arched a brow. "Really? Ok … bend over and touch your toes."

Daryl froze, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he tried to think of a way out of his current predicament. He didn't want to show weakness in front of the woman he loved. He didn't think he could bear to see pity in her lovely azure eyes. His fingers deftly unfastened his buckle and the button on his pants before lowering the zipper and letting his cargos drop to the floor. With a smug smirk, he kicked them out of the way.

Carol let her teeth rake over her lower lip in a slow drag as she took him in from top to toe. He really was a prime specimen of manhood despite his scars. They added character and revealed how much he'd struggled to merely survive over the years even before the turn. His bandages were wrapped tightly around most of his torso, but there were still a few scars left prominent to her gaze. Her eyes flickered up to his, and she could tell he was just as affected by her slow perusal of his body, his pupils wide and dark, blown wide with desire. She leaned in and kissed the scar on his right shoulder left by the bullet wound he'd suffered at Dwight's hands, her lips lingering against his heated flesh.

She smiled as she pulled away, relishing the way his lips parted on a soft gasp. "I'm impressed, Pookie," she whispered against the corner of his mouth as his hands curled over the soft swell of her hips. "You have once again astounded me with your cunning. Now how are you planning on putting those on without tearing your back all to hell? Is your pride so important you would risk another visit to the clinic?"

Daryl cursed under his breath before his eyes flashed hotly at her. "I ain't no invalid, Carol."

"I didn't say you were." She cradled his face in her warm palms and rested her brow against his. "You don't have to do this alone. Let me help you heal." Her thumbs brushed over his cheekbones, careful of his bruises as she spoke softly, her warm breath fanning over his lips. "Please, Daryl, just let me take care of you."

He released a shuddering breath. "I hate this … bein' weak."

Carol knew how much it must have cost him to admit that. "You're not weak; you're injured. There's a difference. Your body will heal, and you'll be back out there hunting and scavenging in no time." She pulled back in time to see the doubt warring on his features. "You will."

He nodded, distracted by her roaming hands as they trailed over his chest and lower over his abs. The look in her eyes assured him he had another reason to get better. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her, to bury himself in her warmth and let her chase away his demons, to pour all the love in his heart into her. His desire only grew as he watched her kneel before him and help him into the soft cotton sleeping pants she held, his flesh tightening and lengthening as her gaze moved over him. He couldn't hide it from her, and it made his cheeks flame in embarrassment to be so vulnerable before her.

Carol shot him a gamine-like grin as she stood and tied the drawstring at his waist. "Soon, baby," she murmured huskily, heat coiling languorously through her limbs as she helped him lie down on the bed and pulled the sheet up over his legs.

Daryl's hand shot out, catching her wrist in a firm grip. "Stay," he slurred, already feeling the effects of the pain medication he'd taken. "Want y' here with me."

She leaned over and pressed a tender kiss to his temple. "Let me change first, ok. I'm not going anywhere."

He yawned into his pillow, his eyes too heavy to hold open a moment longer. "Promise? Need y'."

"Always, Pookie."

*.*.*

Carol arched her back against the mound of pillows she'd propped against the headboard of the bed she shared with Daryl, fighting back a yawn. She didn't want to disturb his restless sleep because of her stiff muscles. The pain medication had been effective in lulling him into much needed sleep to help his body heal, but it was far from a peaceful slumber. He'd been asleep by the time she'd changed into her pajamas – a simple tank and cotton pants – and eased into the bed beside him. She hadn't been the least bit tired, despite the previous night with its many stops and starts, but she'd promised to stay with him, and she wouldn't go back on her word. There wasn't a duty short of fighting off a horde that could drag her away from his side.

Daryl had started out on his stomach – which she knew he hated – his arms curled around his pillow, but it hadn't been long before he began to shift restlessly and mumble in his sleep. The demons which plagued his mind were all too familiar to her. How many nights had she woken, drenched in a cold sweat, her body trembling, as her nightmares drove her from sleep? She had too much blood on her hands. She'd really thought isolating herself from her family would help her find peace again. How foolish. Finally unburdening herself to Daryl had lifted the weight of the world from her shoulders. His calm acceptance of what she'd had to do in the past without judgment had made her see how much she needed her family … _him_.

She'd fled from Alexandria, telling herself she couldn't allow herself to love them any longer so she wouldn't have to kill for them, or have them kill for her. When in truth, she was running from the darkness within herself. In the hell the world had become, there was no avoiding it. No one could make it alone anymore. She'd tried. God, how she'd tried so hard to push everyone away, but all it had taken was Rick showing up at her doorstep to tell her how much Daryl needed her. She'd really thought she could turn it off … those emotions which made her weak. Love, compassion, the drive to protect her family at all cost whether it destroyed her soul or not. If she were alone, she wouldn't have to _feel_ any longer. She wouldn't have to take another life which would haunt her until her dying day.

Daryl's restlessness had increased, his hands fisting into the sheets, his beloved face twisted in terror. Carol had scooted closer, whispering softly until he seemed to settle again. Now, hours later he'd finally found peace, his head resting comfortably on her lap with her fingers carding ever so gently through his hair. Her thoughts continued to wander as she soothed him absently. The solitude of the cottage had seemed to be what she wanted at first. After about a month of being resigned to her own company, she'd viewed it as a penance of sorts. As if by cutting herself off from her family, she would somehow be able to atone for her sins. Daryl had tried to make her forgive herself, but she didn't know how she could. The lives she'd taken had been for her family. To stop the illness at the prison from taking more of them, to protect a poor defenseless child by killing another, to save her family from men and women who would have slaughtered them like cattle, to save them again from feral savages, and the last to avenge her beloved. An eye for an eye. Taking a life to preserve another was just the way of the new world. She wouldn't leave her family again. She'd just have to learn to work through her torment one day at a time.

Carol winced as a rough hand clamped around her wrist. She felt his body tighten, heard his breathing accelerate, his pulse quickening as he lost himself in his nightmare. "No!" he cried, his voice raspy with disuse and higher pitched with fear. "Carol! No, don't … don't hurt … her."

"Shh … Daryl, I'm here, baby. I'm right here. No one is going to hurt me," she crooned softly, her fingers playing over his bare shoulders in a calming caress. "Wake up. It's just a nightmare."

He curled into her, a broken whimper clawing its way from his throat. "Don't … mine … C-Carol …"

Tears stung her eyes, spilling over her lashes, her heart breaking to see him like this. She leaned over, pressing her lips to his temple. "Wake up, baby. I'm here. Open your eyes and see for yourself. I'm right here."

Daryl stifled a sob as the dream released him from its cloying grasp, his arms wrapping around her hips in a fierce grip as he hid his face against the softness of her belly. He trembled from the aftereffects of the nightmare, unable to shake his terror. All he could do was cling to her and hope she didn't think him weak. In the months which followed the massacre in the clearing, he'd had countless nightmares of losing Glenn, of believing it to be his fault, of the judgment he'd have to face from his family. But nothing he'd seen in the haunting world of his subconscious could come close to what he'd just experienced. It sapped his strength and left him shaking and weak, terrified of having it become a reality.

Unable to meet her gaze, afraid to see pity in her lovely azure eyes, he turned partway onto his right side – as much as his injuries would allow – hiding himself away from her until he could get a handle on his emotions. No one needed to see such a breakdown from him when they were used to his quiet strength. Of course, his Carol wasn't just anyone. She wouldn't let him pull away from her, especially when just last night he'd made her unburden herself to him. She didn't push, but simply curled against his back, barely touching, ever mindful of his injuries. Yet her gentle presence enveloped him, a soothing balm to his battered soul. She buried her face against his nape, peppering his skin with fleeting kisses as her fingernails scraped tenderly against his scalp.

"I love you, Daryl," she whispered, her warm breath caressing the shell of his ear causing him to shiver. "It was just a dream. Just a dream. It can't hurt you here. Just let it go."

He brushed angrily at the tears still coursing over his face. "Makes me … makes me not want t' ever close m' eyes again," he choked out hoarsely.

Carol sighed. "The subconscious has a way of twisting everything to make it so much worse. After what you've suffered, I would be surprised if you _didn't_ have nightmares." She pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder and trailed her hand over his arm. "Just … don't shut me out. Let me help you. Talk to me … if you can."

Daryl turned over slowly to face her, and she sucked in a sharp breath at the raw pain she witnessed in his smoky blue gaze. His nose nuzzled the sensitive flesh beneath her ear as his arms banded tightly around her, dragging her flush with his body. He needed the contact, the reassurance that she was truly there with him and nothing or no one would come to steal her away. Still, it was difficult to put his terror into words. "It was that night all over again … all o' us kneeling … th' artificial lights … guns cocked an' pointed at us. Negan posturin' like he was playin' th' lead in some play. Maggie barely able t' hold herself up … Rick lookin' like he did after he lost Lori … all broken." He shuddered, his breaths uneven, and she could feel his fear as if it were her own. "But … but this time when I hit 'im, he didn't … it wasn't Glenn … it was … it was _you_. And they were laughin' … Negan laughed!" he raged, his grip on her bordering on painful. "An' I couldn't do nothin', Carol. They had me on th' ground … that son of a bitch, Dwight, pointin' m' own bow at me, an' I couldn't do nothin' t' stop it!"

Her warm palms cradled his tear-stained cheeks, dragging his head up. "Look at me, Daryl. I'm here. It was just a dream, baby. They're dead; they can't hurt you anymore. I'm not going to let _anyone_ hurt you again."

Daryl fought to gain some semblance of control and gave himself over to her soft touch. "Can't lose y' again, woman. Tired o' losin' y'."

"You won't … promise."

 **A/n: Well, he's home. Hopefully, his recovery won't be too painful. If you liked it, please don't hesitate to let me know. Thanks so so much for reading!**


	6. Recovery

Chapter Six: Recovery

 **Warning: There is some smutty goodness in this chapter. Here is your warning if you'd like to skip it :D**

Carol had always known Daryl would be a bad patient. Granted, he'd had his fair share of wounds over the years since the turn, but none which limited his mobility and kept him housebound. It was painful for her to watch her beloved warrior sink deeper into a pit of despair. Alexandria was trying to recover from Negan's tyranny, and there was still much work to be done between them and the other communities, yet Rick had forbidden Daryl from participating in any of the recovery until he was a hundred percent.

He wasn't allowed past the walls … no hunting, no recruiting trips with Aaron, not even a walk through the forest. Daryl had taken to spending the afternoon's in the quiet of their backyard either lost in thought or using his free time to make bolts for his crossbow. He was slowly withdrawing from everyone … except her. Since returning to Alexandria from her self-imposed exile, she'd fallen into a routine. It had brought a sense of normalcy back into her life and had helped take her mind off the powerlessness she'd felt while Daryl had been held captive. Now the mornings she worked in the pantry doing inventory or in the communal kitchens preparing meals, her hunter was at her side. She knew he didn't like the mundane tasks, but he liked being away from her even less.

Carol didn't mind the time he spent with her while she went about her duties. It was drawing them closer together every day. She'd loved Daryl for so long, it was still somewhat unreal to her that he returned her feelings. They were growing and healing together, though they still had a long way to go.

The worst part of her day, however, was his wound care. She was no novice when it came to injuries, but it was because she had to see him – the man she loved – in such pain which made it especially difficult. His back was littered with stitches where Carson had tried his best to piece Daryl back together. The damage he'd suffered at his father's hands was no more, replaced with Negan's sadistic brand of maliciousness. He would carry it with him forever, a constant reminder of what he'd suffered.

Daryl would lay on their bed every day after dinner and submit to her tender ministrations without a word. Thankfully, the antibiotic cocktail Carson had him on prevented any more infection. Now it would just take time to heal. The Hilltop doctor would be returning to Alexandria in another four days to remove his stitches, but there was no guarantee he would issue their hunter a clean bill of health. She wasn't looking forward to that possibility. He was never meant to be caged. He needed his freedom.

Their nights together, wrapped in one another's arms, were her favorite, though they could be viewed as both a blessing _and_ a curse. Daryl would open up to her about anything which crossed his mind. He'd share his past with her, his fears, his desires, his dreams for the future. And in turn she would share the same with him. Her burdens were so much easier to bear now that she didn't have to keep them bottled inside. And then, when their words had been exhausted, he would soothe her with shy kisses and barely-there touches. They were learning one another from the inside out, and Carol found she'd never been happier in her life. Both of them still suffered their fair share of nightmares, but they came easier, knowing the other would be there upon waking to soothe away the hurt and fear, to dry their tears.

Healing was a step by step process, and couldn't be accomplished overnight, especially with the setbacks they'd encountered. Well, one in particular. Carol shuddered as the memory washed over her. Carson had given him leave to take a shower as long as he kept it brief and left the bandages on to prevent his stitches from getting too wet. She'd jumped on the chance, itching for the opportunity to wash his hair.

 _Carol had dragged him home from his clinic visit and straight to their en-suite bathroom, flitting around happily as she gathered fresh clothes for them. For once, he was eager to shower, knowing she'd be joining him. Daryl had already peeled his vest and shirt from his torso by the time she returned to the room, and a shy blush stained his cheeks. Though she'd seen him naked before, he'd never seen her in such a state of undress. He didn't know whether to be nervous, excited, or both._

 _Daryl ducked his head and gnawed at his lip as she started on the buttons of her shirt. She tilted his chin up so he'd meet her eyes, refusing to let him hide from her. "I don't have to stay if you don't want me to, Daryl. It's your choice. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."_

 _"_ _No! No, it ain't that_ _…_ _jus'_ _…_ _hell," he huffed out a frustrated sigh. "I jus' ain't never been good at this kinda thing."_

 _His arms closed around her, pulling her into his chest. "Baby steps, Pookie. We're just taking a shower together_ _…_ _nothing more. Carson hasn't cleared you for anything more, remember?" She pressed a kiss to his collarbone. "I'm yours, love. When you're ready, everything will fall into place. Just be patient."_

 _"_ _Why y' so good t' me?" he asked, his hands clenching and unclenching against her hips. His voice was barely a whisper, so full of insecurity it tore at her heart._

 _Carol bit her lip, worrying over the best way to answer. "Oh, baby, don't you know it's because I love you. You are everything to me_ _…_ _worth every second I've spent over the years worrying about you. Every second pacing, waiting for you to come back from runs. Every second wondering if you'd had enough to eat or were warm enough." She grabbed his hand and brought it up to place over her heart. "This_ _…_ _my heart_ _…_ _is yours, Daryl. I will always be good to you_ _…_ _always."_

 _"_ _I don't deserve_ _–"_

 _She covered his lips with her fingertips, cutting off his protests. "Stop. I won't have it."_

 _Daryl's lips stretched into a sheepish grin beneath her fingers. "I was jus' gonna say_ _…_ _I don't deserve y', but I do love y', woman. Have for a long time, an' I'm glad I finally told y'."_

 _Carol replaced her fingers with her lips, leaning up on her toes to give him a sweet kiss. "Alright, Dixon, let's get you showered, shall we?" She steadily did away with the buttons on her shirt and tossed it into the hamper as she twisted the knobs and adjusted the temperature of the spray. When she turned, it was to find his gaze locked on the soft swell of her breasts where they peeked over the cups of her bra. She bit her lip to stifle her amusement. "Come on, sunshine, chop chop."_

 _A low growl rumbled in his chest as he gripped her waistband and pulled her to him, a wide grin spreading over his face. "Well, maybe if y' wasn't so goddamn sexy, I wouldn't get distracted."_

 _Carol chuckled softly as she divested herself of the remainder of her clothes and tugged his hand to urge him into the glass enclosed shower stall. It lightened her heart to see him relaxed enough to tease her. Those moments were too few and far between. The sound he made when she nudged him back under the spray was so feral it sent a spark of heat to pool in her belly, his pleasure evident._

 _"_ _Gawd! I'd almost forgotten what hot water felt like," he moaned as the spray saturated his hair._

 _The bandages covering his back were thick and heavy, so she didn't have to worry if he lingered under the water for a moment. She wasn't about to deny him such a simple pleasure. "Just relax, Pookie. Let the hot water ease some of that tension you've been carrying around."_

 _Daryl could do no more than grunt in response. Carol reached for the bottle of three in one gel she'd gotten from the pantry. It smelled of sandalwood rather than the lilac and peony body wash she used for herself. They couldn't afford to be choosy in the middle of the apocalypse, but when she found something she knew Daryl would like, she wouldn't hesitate to beg, barter or trade for it._

 _He watched her with sloe-lidded eyes as she poured some of the gel into her hands before working it into his hair, the scratch of her nails over his scalp causing him to shiver with pleasure and anticipation. He was overwhelmed with emotion for the petite woman standing before him, and he couldn't find it in himself to care that his face and ears were awash with heat. He wondered if they'd ever move past the point where he wouldn't blush at the slightest touch of her hand or a teasing remark from her sweet lips. "Can I touch y'?" he asked, his voice whisper soft._

 _Carol's gaze flickered up to his, and she smiled. "You don't have to ask permission. I love it when you touch me, Daryl." Trust was a powerful thing. Sometimes she still flinched when someone would touch her, a brush in passing, a hand to her shoulder or a pat to her back. It was different with Daryl, however. She craved his touch, wanted it more than air._

 _His rough callused hands settled on the curve of her hips, reveling in the soft texture of her skin as he drew her forward, needing to feel her body pressed flush with his. As she continued to work her magic on his long locks, he returned the favor, squeezing out a small dollop of her shampoo and smoothing it through her short silver locks. She hummed softly, her lovely eyes closing, her teeth dragging slowly over her lower lip. Pride made his chest swell, knowing he was responsible for the joy he witnessed blooming on her features. "Feel good?"_

 _"_ _Yes." She giggled. "Who knew washing each other's hair could be so erotic?"_

 _Carol tilted his head back and finished rinsing his hair before slipping around him to rinse her own. It felt so good, so freeing, to be with him like this, alone in the shower away from the outside world. They could get lost in their own little cocoon of pleasure, but she knew they couldn't linger. She frowned at the heavy bandage pinned over his chest where it was covering nearly his entire torso. How was she supposed to bathe him with it in the way?_

 _Her fingers plucked at the edge of the bandage. "I think if we're quick, I might be able to take this off."_

 _Daryl gnawed at his lip before a devilish smile curled there. "That mean I get t' wash y' first?"_

 _Carol sucked in a sharp breath as she took him in. The arched brow, the sexy smirk, his pupils blown wide with desire and a hint of mischief. Where was Daryl Dixon and what had he done with him, she thought, loving this new side of him. Oh, what a little confidence could do for her beloved archer. A wave of heat spread throughout her limbs, making her weak. She leaned into him, her arms curling around his neck as she kissed the corner of his mouth. "If you like."_

 _She reached for the sponge and held it out to him, but he shook his head slowly, pouring body wash into his hands and rubbing them together to make a lather. "Don't think I'ma need that," he whispered lowly, motioning for her to turn and give him her back._

 _Carol had to brace her hands on the cool tiled wall, her knees trembling as the rough pads of his fingers began to knead the tension from her back. And sweet merciful Jesus, he took his time, working her from the nape of her neck to the small of her back. She was nearly boneless before his hands slipped over the smooth curve of her ass and gave her a squeeze. Why hadn't they done this before? Gawd! And he still had her front to wash. How was she going to endure?_

 _She was barely aware of him adding more soap to his hands, but when she tried to turn to face him, he held her steady, pressing his front flush with her back so she could feel his erection prodding at her ass. She gasped, her breath coming in little pants as she laid her head back on his shoulder to see the smug little smirk toying at the corner of his mouth._

 _"_ _Y' like that, baby?" he asked, running his soapy hands over her breasts._

 _"_ _Gah! Yes!" she breathed, arching into his questing hands._

 _Daryl ducked his head, his teeth nipping sharply at her earlobe before sucking it gently into the warm recesses of his mouth. "Gotta make sure y' all nice an' clean, don't I?"_

 _Carol couldn't have answered him if she tried. She was too caught up in the exquisite torture of his rough hands on her slippery skin. He left no part of her body untouched and it was driving her mad with need. She clenched her thighs together, trying to relieve the ache building in her core, but that simply drew his attention. His clever fingers rolled a nipple between them as his right hand made a steady path over her belly to rest just over her mound._

 _Daryl nuzzled his nose against her cheek. "Look at me, woman," he whispered, the sound of his voice sending another delicious coil of heat rushing to her core. She obeyed him immediately, her eyes dark with want, trust and untold love. "Y' make me so happy_ _…_ _being with y' like this. I ain't never really knew what it was like t' be happy_ _… '_ _til you." She was grateful for the spray of the showerhead so he couldn't see the tears stinging the corner of her eyes. "Tell me whatcha want, Carol. Let me make y' feel good. Make y' feel like I do every day I get t' be with y'."_

 _Carol whimpered as he pressed the heel of his hand more firmly against her sex, the sound startling another gasp from her. "Don't stop_ _…_ _please. Just touch me." He feathered kisses over the ivory column of her throat as her arm rose to curl around his neck, her fingers delving into his long hair, the nails of her other hand digging into the strong muscles of his thigh. She could feel how much he wanted her, his cock hard and thick where it pressed against her ass, yet his touch was gentle, tentative as his fingers explored her slit. He teased her, slowly acquainting himself with the feel of her before allowing himself to grow bolder and slip inside._

 _His eyes slammed closed, his hips bucking against her as his fingers slid through the hot silk of her womanhood. His breathing picked up along with his heartrate as excitement pummeled his body and made him dizzy. She was so wet, the evidence coating his fingers as he traced her inner folds. His other arm tightened about her, his teeth gently scraping across her lovely neck as he plunged two fingers into her welcoming heat. Her little mewling cry was music to his ears. It had been years since he'd been with a woman, but it had never been anything like this. Before, he couldn't have cared less if his partner attained her pleasure from the joining, but this was Carol. Carol_ _…_ _his best friend, his confidante, the woman he loved to the farthest reaches of his soul. He was driven by pure instinct to bring her to her peak. He wouldn't settle for anything less._

 _"_ _Like that?" he whispered, his breath against the whorls of her ear causing her to quake in his arms._

 _Carol nodded, little jerky motions where her head rested against his shoulder. She panted with need, unafraid to show him just how affected she was by his touch. Her own drifted lower to join his, holding the heel of his hand more firmly to her throbbing bundle of nerves. "Yes_ _…_ _Daryl, please_ _…"_

 _Daryl crooked his fingers, thrusting gently. He had no wish to hurt her. God knew she'd had to endure enough pain in her lifetime. He wouldn't add to it. Her hips undulated against his hand, rocking impatiently, wanting more, her core flooding his fingers with dew which had nothing to do with the spray from the showerhead. He rocked with her, his arousal painful where it pressed into her soft flesh, unable to stop himself. His woman trembled, writhing so beautifully against his cock, it was by sheer force of will he didn't blow all over her creamy skin. He forced his concentration away from his own needs, focusing on her. He could feel her inner walls flutter about his fingers, hear her breath hitch, watch the crimson flush spread over her chest and along her lovely neck._

 _Carol came with a cry, her eyes slamming shut, her lips parted in a little 'o' of pure pleasure. He bit his lip, reveling in the pain which helped him weakly cling to his control. And only when her heart started to slow did he withdraw his hand from her core and turn her in his arms, dragging her against his chest to simply hold his sweet girl in his arms as she recovered._

 _She panted softly against Daryl's chest, reveling in the strength of him surrounding her. She could be in the most secure location in the continental U.S. and it still wouldn't make her feel as safe as she did in his arms. Those arms tightened about her, his lips pressed to her ear. "Y' a'right?"_

 _Carol hummed. "I'm perfect. What_ _…_ _um_ _…_ _made you want_ _–"_

 _He chuckled lowly, soothing his hand on the indention of her spine. "Y' really expected t' get in here naked with me an' not have me touch y'? Been wantin' t' do that for a long time," he admitted. "Not like we can do much in our bed right now."_

 _Carson had been strict in his orders_ _…_ _no sex until Daryl's stitches were removed. Well, there was a loophole for everything, and the hunter was more than pleased to have found a way around it._

 _His woman's smile was wicked in the extreme as she peered up at him from beneath her long spiky lashes. "My turn," she purred, reaching for the pins on his bandage._

 _Daryl flushed scarlet, sucking in a deep breath as he watched her. "Y' ain't gotta_ _–"_

 _"_ _I know," she said, unwinding the bandages from his torso, "but I want to. If you haven't noticed, Pookie, I will use any excuse to touch you."_

 _He huffed a laugh. "Yeah, same goes for me."_

 _Carol slipped around behind him, allowing the spray to reach his chest where he'd been covered, and opened the glass door to toss the strips of cloth towards the hamper. Next, she gently peeled the gauze away from his back where it covered his stitches. If she was quick, whatever water reached his wounds would be minimal. She poured some of the shower gel into her hands and made a lather before weaving between the black silk holding his skin together. She pressed her lips into a thin line of disdain as she always did when she had to look at his wounds and envision what he must have gone through. But she wasn't going to allow her heartache over his plight to put a damper on her time with him now._

 _Her hands slipped lower over his hips before she reached down to give his firm ass a squeeze. "Christ, woman!" he hissed, his left hand smacking against the tiles to brace himself._

 _Her lips found a spot between two sets of stitches over what remained of his demon tattoos, pressing a kiss to his somewhat soapy skin. "I love you, Daryl," she whispered fervently, running her nails over the outside of his thighs, careful with the right where he was still sensitive from his other injuries. Thankfully, he no longer needed crutches for his ankle. "Do you hear me, love?"_

 _"_ _L-Love y' too," he responded shakily._

 _Carol poured more of the gel into her hands and slipped around him once again, bringing her lips to meet his as she built up a lather. She smoothed it over his chest in soothing circles, all the while exploring his wonderful mouth. She kept just enough distance between their bodies to accomplish her task, his belly quivering beneath her touch as she worked her way lower. He trembled as she caressed his upper thighs, and she swallowed his gasp before pulling away to drop to her haunches to let her soapy hands roam over his calves and feet. Only when she was sure he was clean did she rise and press her body flush with his._

 _His cock stood tall and proud, curving up towards his belly, the head dark and flushed as it awaited her attention. His eyes slammed closed as her small hand wrapped around his turgid length, the breath stuttering and freezing in his chest as his blood raced south. The world fell away, the pain and trauma he'd suffered a distant memory, nothing more important in that moment than his woman's touch on his fevered flesh. He was vaguely aware of her free hand where it curled around his hip to steady him._

 _"_ _Does that feel good?" she cooed against his mouth, her teeth nipping at his lower lip to get his attention. "Look at me, love." He opened his eyes to mere slits, more than he thought himself capable as he brought his hand to cover hers, his fingers tightening, begging for more pressure._

 _"_ _So good_ _…"_ _he replied, afraid if he didn't answer she would stop. He didn't know if he could bear it. Gawd, how long had it been since he'd felt something besides his own hand?_

 _Carol's palm slid over him and he quivered with pleasure. It crackled at the base of his spine and crept higher to roll over his shoulders. He claimed her, letting go of her to delve his hands into her short hair, his tongue gliding over the seam of her lips, begging entry into the honeyed recesses of her mouth. His kisses grew more urgent as she tugged at his cock and something broke inside him. His worries, his fears, his pain_ _…_ _they had no place here with his woman. She was his haven, sheltering him from every horrible experience he'd ever suffered. She was the dearest friend he'd ever had; her teasing smile a ray of sunshine in his darkness. She was the keeper of his heart, and he trusted her with every fiber of his being to guard it well._

 _"_ _You're so beautiful, Daryl," she whispered, quickening her pace and feeling him grow harder beneath her touch. Her lips trailed a hot path to his ear as he groaned brokenly and buried his face in the crook of her neck. "My warrior_ _…_ _my hunter_ _…_ _my love." She didn't flinch as his fingers dug into her hips, his need growing every second she worked to bring him to his release. "So strong, so virile_ _…_ _any woman would be proud to have you. But you're mine. You hold my heart."_

 _He bucked into her hand, pulling her flush with him as he felt his balls draw tight to his body. "Yours_ _…_ _Carol!" he stuttered, his teeth nipping sharply at her neck as he came hard, spilling his seed over her hand and belly. Daryl clung to her, his lifeline against the storm-tossed sea of his emotions. He should have been terrified of the wealth of feelings rushing through his body. She had the power to break him, but he'd never felt so at peace, so loved. He wanted to stay tucked into her body like this forever, but he knew it wouldn't last. Eventually, they'd run out of hot water, and be driven back out into the bright light of day._

 _Carol pulled the detachable showerhead from its hook and worked quickly to hose them off, barely allowing any water to linger over his back. The spray was just beginning to lose its heat when she reached over to turn the knobs. She couldn't help but press one last lingering kiss to his lips before grabbing a towel he could wrap around his hips. "Are you alright?" she asked, worried over his silence. She knew how easily it was for him to get lost in his own head and let his doubts and fears bombard him._

 _"_ _I'm good," he murmured, a shy smile adorning one corner of his mouth. "Jus'_ _…_ _sometimes I worry I ain't enough for y'. Then we go an' do somethin' like this an' I realize I'm bein' stupid for worryin'. Does that even make sense?"_

 _Carol fluffed the towel over her short silver curls and wrung the moisture from them before stepping out onto the rug and wrapping the towel around her. "Of course, it does. We both still have a lot of insecurities to work through, Daryl. It's not going to happen overnight." She reached up to wipe the fog from the mirror. "I think the fact that we can talk about what's bothering us with one another is a good sign though."_

 _"_ _Promised I wasn't gonna keep nothin' from y'," he shrugged as he dried off and reached for the clothes Carol had laid out for him._

 _She slipped around behind him with a fresh towel and blotted the water from his back as gently as possible, trying to keep him turned away from the mirror. In all the time he'd been home, he'd had no desire to look at his wounds. She couldn't blame him, but she did fret over how he'd react the first time he took in the damage Negan had wrought. "Just let me get dressed, and we'll see about getting a fresh bandage on you, ok?" she smiled, patting his chest as she stepped away._

 _Daryl didn't answer, his brows drawing into a sinister frown as he turned and got a glimpse of his back in the mirror._

 _"_ _Daryl?" She was preoccupied as she slid her underwear up her legs, unaware of the storm brewing behind her. "Did you hear me, Pookie?"_

 _The hunter stood transfixed, caught up in his reflection. His back was littered with black stitches, piecing his flesh together. It looked as though he'd been attacked by Dr. Frankenstein! He remembered watching the old black and white movie with Merle when they'd been younger, but to his mind, the monster in the film hadn't looked nearly as bad as what he saw in the mirror. His demon tattoos were barely recognizable from what they'd been, the vivid scars left by his father all but gone. Only the one lower on his back near his waistband remained. They'd been wiped away in a moment of madness, of evil. He'd never been a vain man, but looking at the ravaged desolation, he could only wonder how Carol could ever want him like this._

 _Daryl's eyes lifted to meet his gaze in the mirror, his breath freezing in his lungs, his heart accelerating against his ribs as he read the abject despair there. He was broken, and he didn't see how he'd ever piece himself back together. Everything he wanted for his future_ _–_ _with Carol, with the group_ _–_ _it was ruined. They would see how weak he was, how powerless, how helpless he'd been to prevent someone from doing this to him. They wouldn't trust him to protect them. And with that knowledge came the rage. In the blink of an eye, his happiness had been stripped from him, leaving nothing but the man he'd been so long ago who'd tagged along after his brother. Just a worthless piece of redneck trash._

 _His fists smashed through his reflection in the mirror, the glass cracking, shards falling to the countertop and sink, others imbedding in the flesh of his hand. He couldn't even feel the pain for the fury rapidly coursing through his veins. He had to go, to flee the harsh reality facing him. He couldn't stay there with them and watch them slowly come to realize he wasn't needed there any longer. He couldn't stand to see pity in the eyes of his family. They should have just left him to die in that dank cell at Sanctuary where they'd found him._

 _"_ _Daryl!" Carol yelped, reaching for him, trying to piece together what was happening, but he brushed past her as if he hadn't heard her. "Daryl, wait! Where are you going!?" Her heart leapt into her throat as she heard his heavy footsteps pounding out of the room and into the hall. She barely had the presence of mind to grab the robe hanging off the back of the bathroom door, yanking it on as she hurried to follow him. He was nearly to the bottom of the stairs. She knew she'd never catch him before he made it to the door. "Rick!" she yelled as she ran after Daryl. "Rick, help! Stop him!" She had no way of knowing if the man was even in the house, but she had to try. She couldn't let Daryl go outside, not with his wounds on display for everyone to see. He'd hate himself for it. He wasn't thinking clearly, the rage and pain he was feeling in full control._

 _Rick ran out of the kitchen, his sandwich abandoned on the counter as he heard Carol's pleas for help. His hand rested on the butt of his Colt, but quickly withdrew as he saw Daryl barreling straight for him. His eyes grew wide as he took in his friend, his blue eyes wide with panic, his breath a panting mess, his hands clenching at his sides into fists. What surprised him the most, however, was seeing him shirtless. The hunter never let anyone see him with his back exposed. "Hey, hey, hey! What's going on here?" he asked, raising his hands to plant on the hunter's shoulders to stop his angry progress to the door. "Daryl, come on, brother_ _…_ _what happened? And why are you bleeding all over the carpet?"_

 _Daryl bellowed with rage as his friend touched the bare skin of his shoulders. He brought his hands up, shoving hard against Rick's chest, knocking him back several steps. The door was right there, mocking him in its solid frame. If he could just get past the former sheriff, he would be free. Once again, Rick moved to block his path. Why were they trying to cage him in? Why wouldn't they just let him go before_ _…_ _before he broke even more? "Get off me!" he roared as Rick advanced on him, this time laying a hand on his forearm, trying to assess the damage Daryl had done to himself._

 _Rick's startled gaze rose to Carol as she ran down the stairs, nearly missing the right hook Daryl threw in his direction. He was scared to restrain his friend, afraid to hurt him more than he'd already hurt himself. "Daryl, stop!"_

 _Daryl shrank back from the voice of authority, old memories toying with his mind. He covered his ears, trying to banish the sound of his father's voice, Merle, the governor, Negan. They pressed in on him like so many poisonous barbs all meant to lay waste to his tortured soul. His knees gave out, sending him to the floor in the foyer, his fingers pulling at his damp hair. He ducked his head close to his chest and tried valiantly to hide the tears coursing over his lashes and down his face to soak into his scruff._

 _Rick tried again, sliding his arm over the hunter's shoulders and drawing him in close. It was killing him to see his brother so at odds with himself. Daryl had always been Rick's strength. Now it was his turn to be strong for him. "I'm not letting you walk out that door like this. I won't." He brought his other hand up to guide Daryl's head to rest against his shoulder as he knelt there on the floor next to him._

 _His eyes were pleading with Carol as she knelt on the archer's other side. "He saw his back_ _…_ _in the mirror," she whispered croakily, tears clogging her throat._

 _"_ _It's worse_ _…_ _worse than what Daddy did," Daryl shuddered. "I look like a monster. Broken_ _…_ _good f-for nothing. Y'all don't need me like this. Weak_ _…_ _Shoulda jus' left me there_ _…_ _t' die. Worthless jus' like I been m' whole life."_

 _Rick felt tears prick his own eyes. "Stop it. I'm not gonna have you thinking that way." He sighed heavily. "You're the strongest man I know, brother. There's no way I can ever repay you for how many times you've pulled my ass out of the fire. You are my family. You wanna go somewhere_ _…_ _then we all go."_

 _"_ _Ain't no good t' y' like this."_

 _Rick shrugged. "That right? Too bad. So you have some new scars_ _…"_ _he pressed a finger to the center of the hunter's chest. "You're still the same man in here. You're gonna heal, and all those scars are gonna prove is that you're a survivor."_

 _Carol pulled him away from Rick to nestle into the crook of her neck. "Rick, grab that throw off the couch, please." She held Daryl tightly, her tears falling to mingle with his. "We love you, Daryl_ _…_ _all of us." She pressed a kiss to his brow as he leaned back to look at her. "Don't leave me_ _…_ _please? I don't think I could bear it again. Being parted from you was the hardest thing I've ever had to endure. I need you."_

 _"_ _We all need you," Rick said, wrapping the plaid throw around his friend's shoulders and helping Carol get him to his feet. "Now, c'mon. Let's get those hands cleaned up and a fresh bandage over your back."_

 _Carol led him into the kitchen while Rick ran upstairs for her first aid bag. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he settled onto a stool at the island, pulling his head to rest against her breasts. "Breathe, baby. Take some nice deep breaths for me.," she commanded gently._

 _After several moments, his breath ghosted over the valley between her breasts. His thoughts were still a jumbled mess brought on by his panic attack, but he needed to know, desperately needed her reassurance. "How can y' want me like this?" he asked, his arms tightening around her waist._

 _She carded her fingers through his still damp hair and tilted his chin up to meet her gaze. "Because I love you. And I'll remind you every day if I have to in order for you to believe. A few new scars won't make me love you any less."_

Carol was drawn from her reverie with the opening and closing of the front door. She tapped the large wooden spoon against the edge of the pot of vegetable soup she'd been cooking and glanced over her shoulder as Rick entered the kitchen and made a beeline for the refrigerator. She could hear Carl stomping up the stairs to see Judith, and Michonne hanging up her sword in the living room. "Tough day, sunshine?" she teased, though her smile in no way matched the dull listlessness of her eyes.

Rick turned the bottle of water up to his lips and caught her in a one-armed hug. "Had to say good-bye to Maggie. She's going back to Hilltop with their share of the supplies from the raid on Sanctuary."

She nodded. "I know. She stopped by this afternoon to say goodbye to me and Daryl."

His brow furrowed as he took a seat at the island and reached for an apple from the basket on the end. "Did … um … Has he come out at all? Did he speak with Maggie before she left? When I asked, she looked a little sad."

Carol shook her head sadly, averting her gaze. "No. He says he doesn't want to see anyone. He wouldn't even visit with Jude today, and believe me, she wasn't happy about it," she whispered bitterly. "I suppose I should be happy he still tolerates _my_ presence." She could feel Daryl pulling away from her, and her heart ached with sadness.

"Carol, it's been three days! How long does he intend for this to go on?"

"We have to be patient. You know him, Rick. He carries around the weight of the world on his shoulders, and blames himself for all the wrongs which befall us. Right now, he sees himself as weak and he doesn't know how to deal with that."

Rick bit into the apple, at a loss for what to do for his friend. "He gets his stitches out tomorrow. Maybe if he can get outside the walls, back into the woods … it might help him, you think?"

Carol wrung a dish towel in her hands, toying with a loose thread. "I don't know. What if … what if his scars run too deep? I think he might need someone to talk to, someone better equipped to deal with what he's going through."

"Carol," Rick said in that patronizing tone she absolutely despised, "it's not like we can take him to a shrink who'll give him a prescription for some anti-depressants."

She shot him a quelling glance full of disdain which had him retreating, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Do you disagree?"

"No," he sighed.

"I know someone at Kingdom who might be able to help him, but I would need to speak with her first," she said, keeping her voice low. She knew Daryl would never condone her leaving Alexandria without him. "Sometimes, Linda was the only one I felt I could talk to … when I would talk to anyone at all. You feel up to a run?"

"Carol –"

"For Daryl," she stated firmly, cutting him off.

"You know I'll do anything in my power to help him."

For the first time in days, she felt hopeful. "Good. I'll arrange everything for day after tomorrow."

Rick swiped a hand over his face. "You know this is gonna be ugly if Daryl finds out."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm gonna get punched and you'll – at the very least – get locked in your room for a week," he grumbled, knowing the redneck's temper better than anyone aside from the woman who stood there plotting with him.

Carol patted him on the shoulder. "We all have to make sacrifices. Don't worry. Michonne won't love you any less with a busted lip and a black eye."

"I'm gonna remember you said that when you can't pick the lock on your bedroom door," he snarked, grinning in spite of himself as she turned the burner off under the soup and flounced out of the kitchen in a huff.

 **A/n: That was the longest flashback I think I've ever written! Gawd! Special thanks to all the ladies from the February writer's chat on 9 lives! I'm still working on chapter 7 and I'm not really sure when I'll have it ready, so please be patient. Thank you all so much for reading. Please review if you have the time :D**


	7. Trying

Chapter Seven: Trying

Daryl gnawed at the inside of his lip. He counted to twenty … thirty … fucking fifty! Nothing he did could distract from the fierce itching in his back. A whimper escaped his parted lips as he buried his face in his pillow. The day had finally arrived … the day Carson would at last remove the cursed stitches from his flesh. He'd be able to lay on his back instead of being forced to remain on his stomach. He'd be able to spend as much time in the shower under the hot spray for as long as he wanted, allowing the heat to soothe his aches. He could go hunting again, ride his motorcycle again. Best of all his restrictions would be lifted and he'd have his freedom back. He'd be able to show his family he wasn't the weakest link. He couldn't wait to get back to his normal routine and gain his strength back.

He shifted position, tempted to flip over onto his back and wriggle against the sheets like a cat. Anything to relieve the itch. Carol sighed in her sleep and he stilled instantly. She'd rub the itch away with her gentle touch if he asked. Though that would cause an entirely different sort of problem, one further south. He wouldn't wake her, however. Between his nightmares, her night terrors, Judith crying out in the middle of the night when she'd crawl out of her crib, Carl sneaking in after a rendezvous with Enid … it was a wonder any of them got any sleep. He didn't even want to think of the sounds which escaped Rick and Michonne's room in the dead of night.

It was too early to wake his woman, the first rays of dawn not having made an appearance in the deep pitch of night. Daryl sighed and crawled from their bed, pulling on his boots and donning his angel wing vest before leaving Carol to her rest. She had no end of patience for him, had always been like that with him. He wondered what it would take to have her abandon him. His mood swings over the past several days couldn't have been easy on her.

He was being an ass. At least he could admit it to himself. After seeing the horror of his back, he hadn't wanted to talk to anyone. All those old feelings of having no self-worth had come rushing to the surface. Daryl knew she loved him despite the voice in the back of his mind telling him the contrary. She wouldn't give up on him … not now when she knew she had a home in his heart. Carol was gentle, kind, tender to the point where it brought tears to his eyes. She made him talk to her, refused to let him hide. For nearly four days, he'd hidden away from the rest of his family, only allowing Carol to get close to him. And Judith. Lil' Asskicker refused to be ignored. He'd always been a sucker for that little girl. Her innocence was precious to him. She didn't have the capacity to look on his past with disdain or view him as a filthy redneck. She simply saw him as her beloved uncle who loved and protected her.

Daryl knew the others didn't look at him like that either … but they had once. He slipped down the hall to her room and cracked the door. He couldn't help but smile as she pulled herself up to stand at the bars of her crib and hold her little arms out to him. Judith's eyes were bright with excitement and her hands opened and closed repeatedly with impatience.

"Hey there, sweetheart," he murmured lowly as he lifted her up into his arms and pressed a kiss to her soft curls. "Whatcha doin' awake at this hour, huh?"

Judith babbled back at him, her chubby little fingers curling in his long hair.

"Wanna go downstairs with me? Maybe get somethin' t' drink or a snack? Huh?" He rubbed soothing little circles against her back as he quietly made his way through the door and down the stairs. He didn't want her excited chatter to filter through the baby monitor and wake Rick.

Daryl took her into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, ignoring the goosebumps which erupted on his bare arms as the frigid air rushed out to meet him. Judith's eyes lit up and she reached for the cup of juice on the top shelf Carol kept for her there. He handed it to her and rummaged through the tupperware containers filled with leftovers. He chose one containing some chicken broccoli rice casserole and popped it into the microwave, thankful Carol was such an excellent cook. Once it was warm, he sat down at the kitchen table and settle Judith on his lap, sharing his meal with her.

He snorted a laugh when she offered her cup to him. "Naw … you drink it." She grinned toothily at him and settle back into his arms. "Think things're gonna work out for y' now, Asskicker. All the bad guys are gone – for th' time bein' at least – an' y' Dad's got himself a good woman in Michonne. She loves y' like you're her very own. Your lil' fam'ly needs a chance jus' t' be, y'know. Grab onto some happiness for a while."

"You deserve that too, brother," Rick said from where he was leaning against the doorjamb. "More than most to be honest."

Daryl's head jerked up, his eyes finding Rick in the pre-dawn gloom of the kitchen. "How long y' been there?"

Rick shrugged as he made his way to the refrigerator and poured himself a glass of cold water. "Long enough. I got up to use the bathroom and check on Jude, and she was gone. I'm glad to see she hasn't learned how to turn the knob on her bedroom door yet," he chuckled, taking a seat at the table and plucking his sleepy child from the hunter's lap.

Daryl was glad his friend couldn't see the blush rising in his face. "She ain't quite there yet. Jus' thought she might want to join me for a snack if she was awake."

Rick hurriedly set his glass down on the table as his daughter struggled in his embrace, her little arms reaching out for her uncle. "Dare!" she demanded quite loudly.

Her father looked a bit put out, but nevertheless handed her back to Daryl and sat down in a vacant chair. His stoic friend made a face which had Judith giggling softly, and Rick couldn't hold back a smile of his own. "I think she missed you," he murmured. It hadn't been easy on any of them having Daryl close himself off from his family. He understood, had made his own trip to crazy town after the tragic death of his wife. Yet, he also knew he never would have come back to himself without the support of his family. "We all did."

Daryl rocked the toddler on his lap, soothing her. At the same time, he rubbed his bandages against the back of the chair, relieving the itch enflaming his skin. "Sorry," he mumbled, his gaze focused on the angel in his lap. "Jus' needed some time t' think. I ain't felt like this in a long time … not since the quarry." He buried his nose in Judith's soft curls and closed his eyes. "Don't like feelin' useless."

Rick scoffed. "Daryl, I've known you a long time, and that's a word I've never associated with you. Even when we were so at odds with each other and I was threatening to shoot you at least once a day, you did everything you could to care for our group." He raked a hand through his dark hair and blew out a breath. "After I lost Lori, it was you who picked up my slack and held everyone together. Hell, brother, I nearly lost my mind when Negan took you from us. It was bad enough he took Glenn and Abraham from us, but taking you -"

Daryl raised his tortured blue gaze to his friend, seeing the same anguish in his eyes. His chest was tight with his own demons, but it felt good to sit there with Rick, to know he shared his pain. "I can still hear him in m' head. Tellin' me I was gonna die in that place, tellin' me I was useless, good for nothin' but bein' a soldier an' I couldn't even do that right. Told me every day I'd never come back here unless I was on his leash an' that y' was never comin' for me. Said y' didn't need me no more."

"Daryl –"

"Knew it wasn't true, but it still wasn't easy t' hear." He gnawed at the inside of his lip, unsure of where he found the courage to confide in his brother. "I'm jus' glad Carol wasn't here. If he'd known how I felt about her, how important she is to the group … he'd have taken her too. I have nightmares of what he'd've done t' her."

"We would've had to hide her too. Just like we did with Maggie."

Daryl huffed a short laugh, but Rick could hear the genuine humor in the sound. "Yeah, like she'd've stood for hiding out when she woulda been ready to burn the world down tryin' t' save us all … again. 'S what she does, man, or hadn't y' noticed?"

Rick shook his head and then proceeded to drain his glass. "She sure isn't the same woman we all knew at the quarry. Hell, that woman is stronger than all of us put together."

"Fam'ly's everythin' t' her." Daryl couldn't help but smile as he thought of how far his woman had come since the beginning. She'd been devastated by Sophia's loss, but instead of letting her grief cripple her and goad her into giving up, she'd focused it onto the group, her adopted family, and proven time and time again how she would do anything to protect them. Carol was his angel, his miracle, and he would thank whatever divine power he could think of for the rest of his life that he had just one more day to love her.

Rick nodded in complete agreement. "Now more than ever." A calculated grin touched the corner of his mouth. "Stitches come out today, yeah?"

"Carson's supposed t' be comin' in this mornin' – couple hours actually - t' take 'em out personally. Cain't be soon enough for me. Tired o' sittin' around here doin' nothin'."

"Don't worry, brother. I'm sure everything's going to be fine. And there's plenty of work around this place to keep you busy." He grimaced as he looked over at Daryl. "Though I doubt Carol's going to want you to push yourself too hard."

Daryl groaned as he rose with Judith in his arms, ready to put the sleeping child back in her bed. "One thing I've learned about m' woman … there's always a compromise. An' she knows how important it is for me t' get back t' work. It'll work out."

*.*.*

The smell of bacon and eggs drew Michonne out of the bathroom where she'd been brushing her teeth, and she smiled around her toothbrush. Normal smells … smells of home made her chest swell with contentment. They were lucky to have survived the war with Negan, and now there were three communities in their small part of Virginia to keep the peace. Maggie had sent Paul down from Hilltop with eggs, three chickens and a good portion of bacon from the pig they'd slaughtered. She'd also sent the promise of half a litter of piglets when their sow delivered again and a calf from their dairy cow. Now that the communities didn't have to pay tribute to the barbarian at the gate, they could afford to trade with one another so everyone would prosper. They all needed to become self-sufficient, and now was the time.

Rick emerged from their bedroom and closed his eyes as he breathed deeply, savoring the smell of breakfast awaiting them below. "Thank God for that woman," he chuckled.

Michonne rinsed her mouth out and pursed her lips. "Sometimes I think you love her more than me," she pouted teasingly.

He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a lingering kiss. "I do love her, but not like I love you. I love her as my sister. We've been through hell together from the beginning, and even after I banished her, she found it in her heart to forgive me. I have a familial bond with her, just as I do with Daryl. They make me stronger."

Michonne arched a brow as she leaned back to smirk up at him. "And it doesn't hurt that she feeds you."

Rick chuckled softly and looped his arm around her shoulders as he led her towards the stairs. "Did I ever tell you about when we first found the prison? We were low on food and Daryl hadn't been able to find anything but an owl on his hunt. That woman can create miracles out of things other people would normally turn their noses. And she's the only person I know who doesn't run at the thought of making opossum stew."

She laughed and elbowed him gently in the ribs. "Better not let Daryl hear you waxing poetic over his woman."

Before he could come back with a scoffing remark, Michonne came to a screeching halt just outside the archway leading into the kitchen, causing him to plow into her back. She whipped around quickly and clapped her hand over his mouth, a finger to her own lips as her eyes widened. He shot her a puzzled look, his hand going to the butt of his colt, but she shook her head and raised the finger at her lips to tap at her ear, silently commanding him to listen.

Another deep growl issued from the kitchen. "Fuckkkk! Yeah … right there! Gawd, Carol!"

Carol giggled. "You should've told me you needed this earlier. There's no reason for you to suffer, Pookie."

Rick didn't know whether to laugh at the nickname or be horrified by what was going on in their kitchen. He could only be thankful his children were sleeping in this morning.

Daryl whimpered as he leaned over the center island, his arms tucked up between his chest and the counter and his brow pressed to the cool surface. "Don't stop, baby. Y' don't know how much I need this. Fuckin' stitches drivin' me crazy!"

Carol continued to rake her blunt fingernails over his bandages. "We'll go to the clinic right after breakfast. If Carson hasn't arrived yet, I'll ask Rosita to help me remove them. I won't have you suffering this badly."

"Harder, woman. I can hardly feel y' through all this crap y' got wrapped around me," he mumbled. "Damn, that feels good. Jus' like that."

Carol scratched above the bandages, over his shoulders and along his nape, feeling him shiver beneath her touch. She draped herself over his back and pressed a kiss to his neck. "If we don't stop, we're going to have another problem to deal with."

Rick and Michonne peeked around the archway, mouths gaping. "You do realize this is the room we prepare food, right?" the samurai smirked.

Daryl's head shot up, his face a brilliant scarlet as he glared at his housemates. "Shut up! We ain't doin' nothin'," he grumbled.

Rick crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a hip against the island. "Not what it sounded like from out there," he grinned.

Carol was unfazed. "Breakfast is on the table, you two. Help yourselves while I grab some juice." She still found it hard to believe the Kingdom was able to get their orange trees to thrive this far north.

Daryl donned his vest and snapped it closed over his chest before he took a seat at the table and filled a plate for Carol with bacon, eggs and some of the fresh baked bread she'd gotten up early to make. Only then did he fill his own plate.

"Where's Carl an' Asskicker?" he asked, peering at Rick through his dark curtain of hair.

"Sleeping in," Rick said around a mouthful of bacon. "Carl had gate duty last night with Enid and after Jude's midnight snack with you, she wasn't ready to get up."

Daryl nodded. "Whatcha got planned for today? After I see Carson, I wanna know where t' find y'. Wanna get back t' work."

Carol set her fork down beside her plate and shot a heated look at both men. "Daryl –"

"Don't start on me, woman."

"There's no guarantee Carson is going to clear you to return to duty." When he didn't answer, she glared at Rick. "Rick, if you –"

The former deputy raised both hands as a gesture of surrender. "Carol, I'm not going to let him do anything to hurt himself, but Daryl's right. He's going stir crazy in this house."

Michonne reached for another piece of buttered bread and smiled patiently. "There's no reason to start an argument now when we don't know what the doctor is going to say.," she interjected in a calm tone.

Daryl pushed away from the table and held out a hand to Carol. "Well, then, let's get this show on th' road. We're burnin' daylight."

Rick scowled as he watched Daryl pull Carol out of the room behind him. He glanced over at Michonne and pasted his most charming smile on his face. "Wanna help me with the dishes?"

She leaned in close and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Nope," she said, her lips popping on the 'p'. One long finger pointed to the baby monitor where Judith was bouncing up and down at the rail of her crib. "Have to go get our girl, but you have fun with that."

*.*.*

Daryl tried to fight off a shudder as he followed Carol into the clinic. It was void of patients that morning, for which he was thankful. Rosita was waiting for them, perched on the corner of the desk, a small smile on her lips which didn't meet the sullen look in her dark eyes. She wasn't the same feisty young soldier he'd met at Terminus so long ago. She'd seen too much and lost even more. He knew better than anyone what life experiences could do to even the strongest people.

"Lookin' good, Dixon," she remarked, motioning them towards the back of the room where she'd set up for his visit. "Carson should be here anytime now. If you want, go ahead and strip off your shirt and vest. Don't worry, I'll pull the screen in case someone comes in." She glanced over at Carol as she picked up Daryl's chart. "How'd his wounds look this morning when you did wound care? Swelling, redness, discoloration?"

It was the same standard questions at each visit, but necessary.

"Itchin'!" Daryl growled, anxious to get the bandages off so his skin could breathe.

"He's miserable, but his wounds are healing well," Carol replied, taking his vest and laying it over the end of the table.

"Itching is a good sign of healing," the medic said, making notations on the chart Carson insisted she keep on the hunter.

Daryl snorted. "Easy for y' t' say. Y' ain't th' one itchin' like y' got live bees under y' skin! Cain't y' an' Carol take th' stitches out? She's done it before."

Rosita shrugged and shared a look with Carol as she began removing his bandages. "That's a lot of stitches. We'd probably just be finishing up by the time Carson gets here. Whatcha think?"

"I don't want him to suffer anymore. We're more than capable of doing this, but first go check the inventory and see if we have a few of those Benedryl tablets left. They're as expired as the rest of our stock, but hopefully it'll be enough to take the edge off."

As soon as Rosita disappeared around the screen, Daryl pulled Carol to stand between his legs, his calloused hands curling over her hips as his brow dropped to her shoulder. "Please … " he breathed, his warm breath fanning over her throat. He'd suffered broken bones, beatings from his father, concussions and multiple stab wounds throughout his life, but nothing compared to this itch. Not even his brush with poison oak as a child. "Losin' m' mind here, woman. Need y' t' make it better."

Carol carded her fingers through his long hair and bit her lip, agonizing over her own helplessness. "I can't scratch your back, Pookie. Not without the bandages." She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and tried to smile. "Bear with us, ok? We'll get you sorted out and it won't be so bad."

Daryl averted his gaze, resigned to his fate. He could do this, he told himself. Rosita returned with the tablets and a bottle of water, and he didn't hesitate to take the tiny pills. He had no need to be wary since it was his woman who'd suggested them. He stretched out on the table, hissing softly as the cool vinyl met his bare stomach.

"Just relax, Daryl. The meds are going to help with the itch, and it shouldn't take too long to rid you of these stitches," Carol assured him.

"Should we get him a pillow?" Rosita asked. "This table isn't the most comfortable surface in the place."

Daryl scoffed. "Don't need no damn pillow. I've lain in th' dirt before while Carol or Hershel stitched me up b'fore."

Rosita chuckled as she laid a drape over his hips and reached for a pair of surgical scissors and forceps. "No one is questioning your manhood, Dixon. Listen to Carol and just try to relax."

Carol took the instruments from the younger woman. "I'll remove the sutures, and you can follow behind with the alcohol," she said softly as she bent over Daryl's back. The alcohol would be cool against his battered back despite the slight sting, and hopefully it would bring him relief while acting as a disinfectant.

She started just beneath his left shoulder and raised the first knotted suture with the forceps before snipping it with the scissors and then lifting it from his skin. It came away easily and she dropped it in the little stainless steel bowl Rosita had set aside for that purpose. She didn't stop until she'd finished an entire row. There were five to seven stiches in each row and a total of thirteen rows. Carol willed her hands not to tremble, needing to be strong for him without her own torment over his torture rise to the surface.

While Rosita swabbed the site, Carol leaned over and brushed the hair away from his eyes to find them closed and his breathing steady. "You alright, Pookie? How's the itch?"

The corner of his mouth quirked up on one side. "Mhmm … "

Carol smiled for the first time in hours. "Good. I'm going to start on the next one, ok? Let me know if you need me to stop."

"Benedryl's going to make him sleepy," Rosita grinned. "Smart call."

"He hasn't been resting well," Carol murmured, concentrating on her task. "Figured he could do with a little relief."

"I can still hear y', woman," he grumbled, his words slurred where his mouth was smashed against his crossed arms.

Carol dropped another suture into the bowl. "I'm not saying anything I wouldn't say to your face, Daryl. You should know me better than that by now."

The hunter sighed. "I know. Don't mean I want y' spillin' all m' secrets to all an' sundry."

"Rosita isn't just anyone. She's been helping me care for you." She shared a smile with the girl, both of them knowing what a private person Daryl was. "Now, be still and let me work."

"Yes, ma'am," he drawled lazily.

Carol and Rosita were on the last row of stitches on his right side near his lower back when the clinic door banged open. She didn't so much as flinch when he rounded the curtain, making the final snip and pull to free him of the last of the sutures. "Nice of you to join us, Dr. Carson. How was your trip from Hilltop?" she asked, taking the alcohol soaked cotton ball from Rosita and swabbing the area.

"Sorry, I'm late," he apologized, slipping back around the curtain to wash up. "We had some difficulties getting on the road this morning."

Daryl's gaze sharpened as he pushed himself into a sitting position. "What kinda difficulties?" he growled. Carol gripped his upper arms and shook her head, silently urging him to remain seated.

"The car we were going to use was deemed unsuitable at the last minute and we had to wait for the van to be readied," Carson replied, reappearing next to the table.

Daryl visibly relaxed, relieved to know they hadn't been set upon by any rogue saviors. Rick had assured him they'd all been taken out, but there was always that doubt nagging at the farthest reaches of his mind.

Carson didn't waste any more time and began a full checkup on Daryl. "So, how are you feeling, Mr. Dixon?" he asked seconds after he stuck a thermometer in the hunter's mouth.

Daryl shot Carol a disbelieving look, wondering how he was supposed to answer when he had to hold the damn thing under his tongue. He narrowed his eyes on the doctor and shot him the finger. Carson chuckled and checked the digital readout when it beeped. "Well, your temp is normal. Rosita, have you taken a BP reading yet?"

The medic took the required reading and noted it on the chart. It was normal despite the nerves which rode him every time he had to visit the clinic for a checkup. Soon Carson had Daryl on his feet doing a series of twists and bends to measure his range of motion.

"Well, Mr. Dixon, I'm happy to say you're physically fit once more. Which is nothing short of a miracle seeing as how you were when you were brought in. The few thick scabs where I wasn't able to stitch you together are already beginning to peel away, and you'll be tender for another week, no doubt," Carson rambled on while Daryl grew more impatient.

"Can I go back t' work or not?!" the hunter hissed, gnashing his teeth. He hated that the doctor had this power over him to withhold his livelihood if he wished.

Carson smiled. "Light to moderate duty for the next week and then your full schedule afterwards."

Daryl groaned inwardly and took a menacing step towards the doctor, but Carol stepped between them. "Hunting, runs, watch duty? He's free to return to those things?" she asked, wanting clarification. She didn't like the steady throb of the tick in Daryl's jaw, knowing his explosive temper was seconds from blowing.

"I don't see why not as long as he does these things in moderation. I doubt you want him going outside the walls without someone with him. He's healed remarkably well, Carol, but he's not back to full strength quite yet," Carson cautioned.

"Thank you, Doctor. You don't know how much we appreciate your help."

Carol turned to Daryl as Carson and Rosita took their leave around the curtain, leaving them in relative privacy. "So, I gotta be babysat for another fuckin' week!" he barked, slamming his hand down on the table.

She arched a brow. "Is that how you see it? And here I thought you enjoyed spending time with me," she snarked dryly.

Daryl yanked his shirt over his shoulders and paused before starting on the buttons. "What?! Y' know I didn't mean it like that!"

"Good! Because I know you like to hunt with me … at least better than Rick."

He snorted. "That's 'cause y' don't sound like a herd o' elephants followin' behind me. Don't know how th' man ever made it as a cop. He couldn't've sneaked up on a kindergartner."

Carol pressed her lips together to stifle her laughter. She held up his vest for him, and he slid his arms in before turning back to her. She smoothed her hands over his chest and grinned. "And who would you rather have on watch with you than me?" she purred. "Especially now that we've begun to explore our love for one another?"

His body responded to her silky tone, a shiver tripping up his spine. "Uh-huh."

"It's settled then. Me and you … together." She rested her cheek against his as he pulled her into the circle of his arms. "You're free now, baby. No one is trying to hold you back. You just have to start slow."

"Hey! What's the word?" Rick called from the other side of the screen. "I been coolin' my heels out here for an hour."

Daryl huffed a laugh and let go of his fierce grip on his woman, pulling her after him as he went to meet his friend. He stopped short, however, when he saw Maggie was waiting there for him too. He swallowed convulsively and ducked his head. It was still so painful to look at her, thoughts of Glenn stabbing at his heart.

"How are you?" she asked, stepping closer to him and resting her hand on his arm.

He nodded, his throat closing up on him.

Carol cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "He's much better. Carson cleared him for light to moderate duty for another week and then he's free to do what he wants. Just means he's stuck with me for a while longer."

Rick frowned. "Light to moderate?"

"It means he can go hunting, but with a partner, and he can take watch and go on short runs. He's still trying to get his full strength back, Rick."

The man heaved a heavy sigh of relief. "That's wonderful news." He glanced over at Maggie for a brief moment before reaching for Carol's hand. "Walk outside with me for a minute?"

"Um …"

He didn't give her a chance to protest, hauling her along after him so Maggie could have her moment with Daryl.

Daryl looked as if he wanted to go after her and snatch her away from Rick, but Maggie still had a tight grip on his arm. Finally, he raised his anguished blue gaze to meet hers. "Y' ok? Y' shouldn't be travelin' so far being … y'know … um … " He stopped his rambling, the memory of her on her knees in that line up, her body trembling and pale, her eyes red rimmed and tortured with pain and loss. "Baby a'right?"

Maggie smiled gently, her green eyes warm and open. "Baby's fine, Daryl. He's getting stronger every day. But I want to know how you are, really. I thought we were ok from our talk, but then you wouldn't see me before I left to go back to Hilltop."

Daryl led her over to the desk and pulled out the chair for her. "I was jus' goin' through some stuff. Ain't had nothin' t' do with you."

"Are you sure?" At his nod, she smiled. "Good, because I don't like to be at odds with my family. You know I had a stepbrother once … Shawn. I was such a little shit after I lost my mom. Typical rebellious teenager, sneaking out, drinkin', smokin', shopliftin' … gave my Daddy hell. You can probably imagine I wasn't too happy when Daddy told me he was going to marry Annette," she said, her hands idly rubbing her belly as she lost herself in her story. "Shawn and I pretty much hated each other at first sight. I think I looked at him like he'd come to steal away my daddy's affection. A son for him to love."

Daryl frowned without really meaning to, wondering where she was going with her story. He thought maybe she just needed to talk about her family who had meant so much to her.

"It took me a long time to realize he felt the same way about me. He was afraid me and Beth would become more important to Annette than he was. Once I finally let myself love her, she brought us all together." A silent tear slipped over her cheek as she closed her eyes against the pain. "I wanted to die the day I watched Daddy and Otis put them in the barn. I didn't have enough time with them!"

Daryl dropped to one knee beside her and took her hand. He was so ill-equipped to offer comfort to anyone, but he couldn't let her suffer alone. "There's never enough time."

"The thing is … this new world took my family, but it gave me another one," she murmured, her smile watery. "I was afraid of you when I first met you, Daryl. You had such a temper."

"Whatcha mean 'had'? Still got a temper," he scoffed.

"But you'd never hurt us. There were so many times you could have left us, just walked away. You proved over and over again how much you _didn't_ need us, but you stayed. You became part of my new family. Just as I learned to love Shawn, I learned to love you too. Glenn loved you so much, Daryl. He looked up to you like an older brother. Please don't blame yourself for his death. He wouldn't want that."

Daryl ducked his head, hiding his tears behind his fringe of hair as her hand tightened on his to stop him from pulling away. "If I hadn't –"

"What? Tried to sacrifice yourself? Negan would still probably have killed Glenn. He was a monster who felt threatened by us after what we did to his outpost. He knew how strong we were. Why do you think he took you? You were the biggest threat of all. He _wanted_ you for himself. He knew if he had you on his side he'd be nearly invincible. But even after all you suffered, you never turned your back on your family."

He shook his head and wiped at his eyes with his free hand. "I couldn't … couldn't dishonor Glenn like that."

"I know. Daryl, you've always been there for us. You saved me and Glenn from Merle, tried to save Daddy from Blake, and Beth from Grady Memorial. I want you to do the same for Glenn's son," she whispered softly, knowing he was revisiting each memory with a sense of failure. "I want you and Carol to be our baby's godparents. I want to know if something happens to me, our child will have someone who will put him first and protect him with their lives."

His startled gaze flew up to meet hers. "Ain't no one ever trusted me t' be responsible for their kid."

"Rick has. He doesn't trust anyone like he does you, Daryl. He might not have said it so many words, but I know he trusts you to watch after Carl and Judith if something happens to him. And so do I. This is what I want … what Glenn would have wanted." She squeezed his hand which was still tightly held in her own. "Say yes."

"Maggie …"

"Say yes," she insisted.

He fought back the panic rising beneath his breastbone, unable to refuse her. He'd fight with his last breath to protect that baby. It's mama too, he realized. Without the threat of Negan hanging over their heads, perhaps this child would have a chance to grow up in relative safety, and if a new enemy arose, he'd be there to beat them back. He couldn't lose anyone else. He nodded. "Yes."

*.*.*

Daryl was careful with Maggie as they walked out of the clinic and onto the porch, his hands ready to reach out to her if she lost her footing. She was barely into her second trimester, but he doubted her equilibrium was all that great. He could still remember how clumsy Lori had been when she'd been pregnant for Judith. He couldn't, however, keep the smile off his face when he looked up to find Carol and Rick waiting for him at the curb standing next to his motorcycle.

Aaron and Eric were there too. "Thought you might like to have this back," Aaron said with a huge grin. "No use keeping it locked in my garage any longer." He stretched out his arm and dropped the keys in Daryl's hand. "It's all gassed up, and we had Wayne tune it since we didn't know what kind of shape it was in after Negan had it."

"Thanks, man," Daryl said warmly, his eyes alight with pleasure at having it back.

Carol didn't miss the red tint to his eyes, though. She wrapped an arm around his waist and brushed the hair back away from his face. "Are you alright?" she whispered.

"Yeah. Talk later, ok?"

Rick thrust a backpack towards him, already filled with supplies for the afternoon. "Thought you might want to take a short run."

Daryl's grin widened. "Seriously?"

"Yup."

"Y' got a list?"

"Nope. But I'm sure you and Carol can come up with something."

"Hell yeah!" he whooped, swinging a leg over the bike and taking Carol's hand to steady her as she climbed on behind him. He didn't fail to notice his crossbow and her rifle had already been affixed to their places on the bike. "I know just the place."

Rick swiped a hand over his beard and tried to opt for a serious expression. "How long you planning to be gone?"

"I dunno, maybe three hours. Not goin' far. Maybe five miles southwest."

"Sounds good. Maybe when you get back, you can take a shift in the tower," Rick offered, knowing how badly Daryl needed things to return to normal.

Daryl turned the key and fired it up as Eric and Aaron hurried to the gate to open it. "We'll see." He sighed blissfully as he felt Carol's arms band about his waist and the rumble of the bike vibrate beneath him. He felt home. "Y' ready, woman?"

Carol pressed a kiss to his nape and laid her cheek between his shoulders. "Always. You know I'll follow you anywhere."

And before she could blink, they were speeding through the gate and onto the open road, leaving Alexandria behind for the first time in what seemed like forever.

 **A/n: Been sick for over a week, so since I was feeling better today (and kinda panicky bc I had nothing to post! Guh!) I busted ass to get this chapter finished. I should only have one left for this story. Really hope y'all enjoyed it :D Thanks so much for reading and those of you who've reviewed** **…** **well you just don't know how much I appreciate every word. Y'all are the best!**


	8. Healing

Chapter Eight: Healing

The wind in his face, his woman molded against his back and the roar of the bike beneath him did wonders to lift Daryl's mood. Frankly, he couldn't remember when he'd felt so good. Even the nagging persistent itch had abated now that his stitches had been removed. Really, it was the first time since he'd been rescued from Negan's dungeon that he felt truly free. He felt as if he could finally start over … with Carol. And this time there was nothing standing between them. Not their pasts or their fears. Those had been laid to rest in a dim room at the clinic where he'd taken a chance and bared his soul to her, and she to him. It gave him hope and allowed some of the weight, he carried around unnecessarily, to fall from his shoulders because she would be there to bear it with him.

He couldn't help the tiny smile which graced the corner of his mouth as Carol snuggled closer to his back, her thighs cradling his hips just a little tighter. It hadn't taken long to reach their destination, not wanting to venture too far out after being cooped up for so long on medical leave, but apparently, it had been enough to lull her into a state of relaxation he hadn't witnessed in a long time. "Y' awake back there?" he called over his shoulder as the bike slowed and entered the parking lot of the strip mall.

Her lips brushed his ear, sending a wave of gooseflesh erupting over his bare arms. "I'd forgotten how much I enjoy riding with you."

Daryl chuckled and rested his hand over hers on his belly as he cut the engine. "Don't remember y' ever holdin' on quite so tight before. Except maybe that night we fled th' farm."

Carol climbed off the bike and moved to stand at his side, laying a hand on his shoulder to toy with the ends of his hair. She couldn't think of the farm without the memory of her daughter wafting across her mind's eye, but she wouldn't allow her pain to intrude now. "It seems so long ago, doesn't it? We weren't ready. You were skittish as a colt every time I touched you, and I'll admit, I still had some issues of my own to deal with. We're right where we need to be now, Pookie."

He grunted noncommittally, and swung his leg over the bike, slinging his crossbow onto his back before handing Carol her rifle. "I ain't gonna deny I thought about it."

"Yeah?" she murmured in a teasing tone. "Just what were you thinking?"

Daryl reached for her hand, twining his fingers with hers as he led her towards the line of storefronts before them. "Ain't never let nobody ride with me before that night. Never trusted no one enough t' turn m' back on 'em. Then I heard y' scream." He shuddered at the memory. "Cain't remember ever being so scared for someone else."

Her eyes softened as she stopped before him, never having heard him talk about that night to anyone. He was letting her in more and more every day, but she'd never expected this. "I thought I was going to die, and there you were yelling at me to hurry up."

"I was an asshole," he grumbled, pulling the door open to the apothecary after making sure no walkers answered his knock. "Don't know how y' ever put up with me, much less became m' friend."

Carol watched him warily as he braced his hands on the counter and propelled himself onto the other side. She shook her head. "Daryl, why are you telling me this now?" she asked curiously as he helped her over so they could fill a bag with pharmaceuticals they'd left behind on the previous run to the little shop.

He gave an impatient wave of his hand. "See this place? Denise found it, made me an' Rosita bring 'er along with us t' see if we could find anything useful here for th' clinic."

She dropped the bag at her feet and moved closer to him, her arms slipping around his waist. "That was the day you lost her?"

Daryl nodded, reveling in her warmth. "We were on our way back," he choked, clearing his throat. "Fool girl … took on her first walker when she saw a cooler in this car. She took a chance so she could bring a soda back for Tara. It was so stupid." He pushed away from her and began shoving bottles into his pack.

"We take chances for those we love, Daryl."

He hung his head, gnawing at the inside of his lip. "Yeah, that's what she said … yelled it actually. Told us we were stupid because we were so brave and were still hidin', scared t' take a chance on what was important." He huffed out a disgusted sigh, anguish rolling off him in waves. "An' then she was just gone. She was right, y'know. Didn't matter how many walkers I killed or how hard I tried t' protect our family, or any o' that other shit. I was still runnin' from th' thing that mattered most t' me, still running like that scared little kid I used t' be when m' daddy was drinkin'."

Tears silently trekked over her ashen cheeks as she covered her mouth with a hand to hold in a sob.

"All I could think about while I was in that cell was I hadn't told y', Carol. I never toldja how much y' meant t' me, how much I love y'," he whispered brokenly.

"I love you too." Carol wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his warm neck. "I think Denise would be so pleased to know you took her words to heart. Her death wasn't your fault."

"Th' hell it ain't. If I'd've killed Dwight when I had th' chance … it was _my_ bow, Carol!"

"You didn't pull the trigger. That's just another sin Dwight will have to answer for when he stands before his maker." Her fingers splayed over his heart. "It's who you are. It's the choices we make. You're a good man, Daryl, and you will _always_ try to do the right thing. You tried to help Dwight and his wife, and they ultimately payed the price for their betrayal. That is not on you." She pressed a kiss to his ear as his arms tightened around her. "Please don't let this world harden you. We need your kindness and compassion."

His fingers tangled in the wispy curls at her nape, that feeling of lightness once again settling in his chest as the burden of his failures lifted a little. "I got you. Maybe y' could remind me every so often? Help me remember?"

Carol brushed her fingertips over the shadows beneath his eyes, drying his tears. "I think I can do that."

Daryl held the pack loosely in his hands, staring down at the canvas bag without really seeing it. "Y' know Maggie asked me if you an' me would be godparents t' her baby? That's what she wanted t' talk t' me about today. Said she don't blame me for what happened t' Glenn, an' neither would he. Told me I shouldn't blame myself."

"You shouldn't," she agreed, marveling at Maggie's proposition and the woman's love for Daryl. "You tried to sacrifice yourself to save all of them, Daryl. You've got to stop blaming yourself for the others as well. Don't try to deny it." She held up a hand when he opened his mouth to protest. "Dale, Sophia, Merle, Andrea, Beth. If you'd been more vigilant with watch, Dale would be here. If you had followed Sophia into the woods instead of Rick, Sophia wouldn't have walked out of that barn as a walker. If you had watched Merle more closely, you could have stopped him from going after the governor. If you had talked Rick into making Andrea stay instead of letting her go back to Woodbury, Andrea would still be with us. If you hadn't let Beth confront Dawn in those last moments, you wouldn't have lost another little girl."

Each affirmation of his failures spoken in her lilting voice was a dagger to his heart, and he turned away, hiding his tears. He wanted to lash out, to yell at her to stop, to tell her how much she was hurting him, but he couldn't when everything she said was the truth.

Carol stepped up close, pressing her cheek between his shoulder blades and wrapping her arms around his waist. "It wasn't your fault, Daryl. Baby, you've got to let it go."

"I can't," he spat brokenly.

"You can. Dale was in the wrong place at the wrong time, Sophia …" her voice cracked as she spoke her daughter's name. "Rick did his best to save her."

"Did he? Did he really, Carol?"

Her arms tightened, her hands curling into fists. "I'm going to believe he did. I love him, Daryl. His just as much my brother as he is yours, even after all we've been through, maybe because of it. But don't you see … everyone has to make their own choices. Merle wanted nothing more than to save you, Andrea thought she was going to bring peace between our two groups and Beth was trying to save Noah. Choices. Free will. To blame yourself is taking that away from them." She turned him to face her and he came willingly. "Let it go."

He didn't know if he could, but for her he would try. "Tryin'. S'all I _can_ do."

She rose up on the balls of her feet to offer him a kiss and what comfort she could bring. "That's all I can ask."

Daryl attempted a smile for her. "C'mon; let's finish up here an' see what else this place has t' offer. We could maybe box up some stuff from some o' th' other stores an' send a group back with the box van."

She nodded and began filling her pack, reveling in the changes he was trying to institute in his life … _their_ lives.

*.*.*

Carol grumbled softly to herself as she trudged her way up the stairs towards the room she now shared with Daryl. How had a day which had begun with such promise slowly slipped into the bowels of hell? Well, maybe she was exaggerating. She'd really rather enjoyed her time away from Alexandria with Daryl. Outside the privacy of their bedroom, it wasn't often they could find time for just the two of them. Their family had a tendency to hover, especially in light of the nightmare Negan had put them through.

They'd pulled a good haul from the strip mall, and Rick would be sending a group in the morning to pick up the boxed supplies. It had been a good many items most survivors living out on the road would deem useless, but for the ASZ they were treasures. Cookware, clothing, linens, towels and other sundry items each home would benefit having., and thankfully, the half dozen or so walkers they'd encountered were easily dealt with, and the team who were being sent in for retrieval would have a fairly easy time of it. She'd been looking forward to coming home and cooking a celebratory meal for her family. They had cause to celebrate for once, what with Daryl being cleared to return to his normal duties.

Maggie had decided to stay the night, and Carl had taken Daryl's old attic room so she could comfortably settle in his. Carol didn't mind having her friend stay. Now that Maggie had been appointed leader of the Hilltop, she rarely had the occasion to spend time with her. But Glenn's widow was the least of her worries. She'd felt the onset of a panic attack as Daryl had dropped her at the house and left to take watch on the wall. She knew it was ridiculous, but she'd spent nearly every moment with him since he'd been returned to her. Then the heating element went out in the oven, rendering her nigh helpless as to how she was going to prepare dinner. She'd had to pack everything up and trek down the street to Aaron's and beg Eric to let her borrow his stove. She'd left Rick to deal with Tobin who'd assured him it would be an easy fix. She was in no mood to stand about sharing pleasantries with the man.

Eric hadn't minded at all, seemed quite happy to host her little dinner party, so she'd simply moved their little celebration to the couple's house. Daryl was more relaxed than she'd seen him in longer than she could remember … if ever, and slowly her tension had begun to ease under the lighthearted banter of her family and friends. Over dessert, Aaron offered to go hunting with Daryl the next morning, and considering the archer had to have a companion with him outside the walls for at least the next week, he couldn't refuse. Not if he wanted to go at all. He was exhausted, and would need to retire early if he were to get up at dawn for a hunting excursion, but Carol wouldn't hear of leaving before she'd cleaned up after dinner.

Rick volunteered to stay behind and help as she sent Daryl home to shower and get ready for bed. Things were better, the day not a complete loss … until Rick revealed his ulterior motive for staying behind with her. Since he was going to be escorting Maggie back to Hilltop in the morning, he suggested they also visit her friend at the Kingdom while they were out. Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. Fuel being a scarce commodity, she could hardly refuse. She needed to do this for Daryl. He was getting better, but he could only benefit from professional help, and she felt it was her duty to provide it if she could.

When they finally returned home, it was to find Michonne walking the floor with a fussy Judith, the toddler pulling at her ear. The child took one look at Carol and screamed bloody murder until she scooped her up into her arms to try to soothe her. With the help of some drops and a bit of infant acetaminophen, Judith finally fell into an exhausted sleep. Carol handed her over to Rick and made her way upstairs, wanting only to take a shower and crawl into bed with Daryl.

She paused in the doorway of their bedroom, her hand rising to her lips to stifle a giggle. Her poor darling. He was stretched out flat on his back in the center of the bed wearing nothing but his boxers, light snores falling from his parted lips. With his limited mobility during his recovery, it was going to take a while to slip back into his normal routine. Clearly the day had sapped his strength. Carol sighed and trudged towards the en-suite bathroom, ready to wash the day right down the drain.

Later, as she finally took her place at his side, he curled into her, his arms wrapping tightly around her instinctually without disturbing his rest. Her eyes closed and she let the steady rhythm of his heart lull her to sleep.

*.*.*

A tiny furrow appeared between Daryl's dark brows as he fought his way to wakefulness. His inner clock would not be denied, despite how much he might have liked it to be otherwise. He'd had too many years to perfect it. He pried his eyes open, curious as to the unfamiliar weight on his chest, his lips curling into a satisfied smile as he took in his woman sprawled over his body. He vaguely recalled her climbing into bed with him last night, her warmth at his side drawing him to her, his flame. A cool breeze blew in through the open window of their bedroom and she shivered against him, the skimpy cotton shorts and tank she wore no protection against the early morning chill. It would be dawn soon, and time for him to meet Aaron at the gate for their hunting excursion, but damn if he didn't want to leave her.

Carol had spent nearly every waking minute with him over the last two weeks if you didn't count that three-day period when he'd let his depression get the better of him and he hadn't wanted _anyone_ near him. He'd tried to spare her, to push her away, but she hadn't allowed it, and slowly he'd come to the realization that there was nothing he could do to make her abandon him.

It was just a hunting trip. He should be looking forward to it after being confined behind the walls for so long and a prisoner before that. It was the thought of leaving her behind which was rankling him so badly. His nails traced lightly over her spine, and she shifted over him, mumbling in her sleep. Her movements brought a sharp reminder of the morning wood trapped against her belly. He'd been cleared by the doctor to resume his normal activities, which he was sure the bastard thought included sex. And the first chance he'd had to be alone with his woman, he'd fallen asleep.

"Stop thinking so loud. Some of us don't have to be up for hours," she grumbled, nestling her nose deeper into the crook of his neck.

"Pfft," he scoffed, letting his hands wander more assertively over her back in a slow sweet massage. His smile turned smug as she made a little purring noise in the back of her throat and arched into his calloused fingers. "Ain't like y' can hear what's goin' on in m' head."

"Keep telling yourself that, Dixon." A little moan escaped her parted lips as he paid particular attention to a stubborn knot on her lower back. "Mmm, that feels good."

Daryl pressed a kiss to the soft curls at her temple. "I seem t' have acquired a new blanket in the middle of the night," he teased. "Somethin' wrong with th' bed?"

Carol chuckled and cast him a saucy look from beneath her lashes. "Not my fault. You rolled over a few hours ago, and dragged me with you. Not that I'm complaining. You're really quite comfy."

He brushed a stray curl over her ear, the lazy smile falling from his lips. "I'm sorry I fell asleep on y' last night."

She propped her chin on her hand and gave a gentle shake of her head. "You had a big day yesterday, then I was delayed joining you. Frankly, Pookie, I would've been more surprised if you _hadn't_ been asleep when I finally made it to bed." Her lips pressed against the thundering pulse point beneath his jaw. "We have time to do all the things we've been dreaming about. There's no rush."

With the threat of Negan and the saviors no longer hanging over their heads, he could actually believe that. "You're not disappointed?"

"Daryl, I love you. I get to climb into bed with you every night and sleep next to you. Sex is just a bonus," she whispered against his lips, nipping lightly before guiding her tongue along the seam.

He growled lowly as she deepened the kiss and wriggled her hips happily against his own. He didn't want a morning to pass where he couldn't wake up to her like this, wrapped around one another in a cocoon of warmth and love. But their sweet kisses and lingering touches weren't to go any further with a houseful of their family. Not to mention, it wouldn't be long before Daryl was due to meet his hunting partner.

Carol groaned, burying her face against Daryl's shoulder as she heard Carl in the bathroom complaining to his father that Michonne had used the last of the toothpaste … again. "I suppose we should get dressed. I want to make sure you have something to eat before you leave."

Daryl gnawed the cuticle of his thumb as he let her go and sat up on the side of the bed. "Y' could still come with us, y' know."

She caught his eyes in the mirror over the dresser as she pulled on a pair of brown cargos. All of his tells were on display for her to read as clearly as her favorite book. "What's wrong?" she asked, turning and moving to stand between his parted knees.

"Nothin'," he was quick to reassure her. Perhaps a bit _too_ quick. He sighed. "Maybe I just want y' t' come instead of Aaron."

Her fingers carded through his overlong hair, trying to soothe him. "You've always enjoyed hunting with Aaron. He's your friend, Daryl. Think of how disappointed he'll be if you back out to take me instead."

The hunter shrugged. "I know … I jus' –"

"You're afraid to let me out of your sight since we're together now. I understand. We've been separated one too many times in the past."

"So … y' don't think I'm jus' being paranoid?"

"Of course, not." She gave him a bright smile and reached for the shirt she'd left abandoned on the bed. "Now hurry and get dressed. I'll meet you downstairs in ten, ok?"

Daryl watched her go with narrowed eyes. Despite her reassurances, he couldn't shake the feeling something wasn't quite right.

*.*.*

Daryl's brows rose as he strode into the kitchen and laid his hunting sack on the island. Rick looked as if he hadn't slept at all. He sat at the table, rubbing the back of his neck and nursing a cup of strong black coffee. Maggie stood at the counter, slicing a peach into a bowl of oatmeal for Carl. The boy was bleary-eyed himself. And Michonne stood with her back to the sink, bouncing a fussy Judith on her hip while trying to get the child to eat some of the warm oats in her bowl.

Carol dropped some of the blueberries Maggie had brought from the Hilltop into a serving of oatmeal she'd ladled up for Daryl and pushed it towards him, but it didn't look as if he'd get to eat it. The toddler took one look at him and let out a wail powerful enough to shatter glass, holding her arms out to him. Rick groaned, a wince twisting his features into a look of abject pain. "Dare! Dare!" she cried again, struggling to free herself from Michonne's arms.

Daryl didn't have a choice, swooping in to relieve the samurai of her charge. "Hey there, Asskicker," he crooned softly. "What's with all th' noise, huh? What's wrong with m' girl?"

Judith wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her tear-streaked face against his neck, her cries easing a bit now that she was in his arms. He rubbed her back in gentle, soothing circles, bouncing a little on his heels as he looked to Rick and Michonne for an explanation.

"She's got an ear infection," Rick mumbled around a yawn. "We took her to see Carson last night and he gave us a stronger antibiotic, but she's still miserable."

Carol frowned. "It's going to take time for it to work, Rick."

"We've been up and down with her all night," Michonne said, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "I hate seeing her suffer like this."

Daryl crooned softly to her, sitting on one of the stools at the island and pulling his bowl towards him. "Y' hungry, sweet girl? Y' gonna show y' parents what a big girl y' are and help Uncle Daryl eat his breakfast?" He leaned over to whisper in her good ear. "Bet if y' do, 'Chonne'll give y' some of that juice y' like so much."

Rick's mouth gaped open as his daughter opened her mouth for the spoon Daryl held to her lips. "How do you do that?! Every damn time!"

Maggie chuckled softly as she filled a sippy cup full of apple juice – freshly pressed from the orchard's harvest – for the little girl. "Daryl just has a way with her … always has. I think it's because he bonded with her so early."

Daryl shot a glare at Rick over Judith's head. "What I wanna know is why y' let her suffer all night? Why didn't y' come get me if y' couldn't get her t' settle down? Or Carol?" he growled, coaxing another bite into Judith's open mouth. "Ain't that right, sweetheart?"

Rick shook his head. "You went on a run _and_ pulled watch … all after having your stitches removed. If you didn't wake up through all her screaming, I didn't stand a prayer."

The hunter rolled his eyes and hoovered the mug of coffee Carol set before him. "Maybe I can put off m' huntin' trip until tomorrow and –"

Four voices raised in a collective "No!"

"That's not necessary, Daryl. You've been looking forward to going hunting for weeks now," Rick covered, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck.

Daryl's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Something was going on. They were all keeping something from him, and he didn't like being kept in the dark. "A'right, what's going on with y'all? An' don't tell me nothin' either."

Carol took his cup and set it in the sink. "Nothing's going on, Daryl. There's just no reason for you to put off your trip when Michonne and I are perfectly capable of looking after Judith."

He searched her face for any trace of falsehood, but he could find none. Which wasn't to say she wasn't plotting something. His woman was an expert at subterfuge. Daryl's gaze swung to Rick. "Y' wanna come along?" he offered, wanting to suddenly keep an eye on his brother.

"I'd love to, but I have to give Maggie and Carson a ride back to the Hilltop. Their van needs an oil change and Wayne couldn't get to it until today."

Maggie set her cup of tea down on the counter and hugged her friend, his ears blushing scarlet as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "And don't you be a stranger now that you're all better. Bring Carol to Hilltop with you and visit for a few days. I want to show you all the improvements we've made recently."

He nodded and watched as Carol shoved some protein bars and a few bottles of water into his hunting sack, ready to walk him out. He cast one last suspicious glance at them before he left. Judith was nearly asleep in his arms as he stepped out onto the porch and traded her off to Carol, hefting his crossbow onto his back and slinging the strap of his hunting sack over his shoulder. "Y' sure y' don't want me t' stay?"

"I'm sure," Carol replied, her voice low so as not to disturb the little girl. "I want you to enjoy yourself."

Daryl wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, dropping a lingering kiss to her lips. "Love you. I'll be back this afternoon at the latest."

"I love you too." She watched him go, her heart heavy with keeping her secret from him. She stayed on the porch until he disappeared on his bike through the gate, Aaron following behind him in his truck. Before she stepped back inside the house, she sent up a silent prayer that he'd be able to forgive her.

*.*.*

Carol leaned her head wearily against the window, not paying attention to the passing scenery. The position of the sun and the ticking second hand on her watch claimed all her attention. Daryl would be returning from his first full day of hunting, and she and Rick still had another good hour before they sighted the gates of Alexandria. She didn't want to think of what would happen if she weren't there when Daryl got home.

Rick shifted guiltily at her side. "Carol –"

She silenced him with a glare, angry and in no mood for a chat. She knew there was a risk when she'd planned this little outing, and Rick wasn't the only one who had reason to feel guilty. She hated lying to Daryl. There'd been nothing wrong with Maggie's van, leaving the woman and Carson free to return to the Hilltop on their own. It was just a cover to get Rick out of the community for the day. Carol had left with Rick shortly after Daryl had set out with Aaron, her heart heavy to be so far away from him, but there was no help for it. She'd been determined to travel to the Kingdom to speak with the only certified therapist within a hundred-mile radius. She'd do anything to help the man she loved … even risk his formidable temper.

And she trusted Rick. Not like she trusted Daryl, of course, but she _did_ trust their leader to see her safely to the Kingdom and back. He wasn't the same man he'd been when he'd banished her from the prison. He'd even come to respect her in a way he hadn't before, admired her bravery, her resilience, and the fortitude she possessed to do anything in her power to protect their family. And it didn't escape his attention that she would _always_ put Daryl and the children first. If he'd had any doubts, he never would have come running to the Kingdom to bring her home.

On this trip, time was a luxury she didn't have to waste. She'd bristled when Ezekiel had insisted they have coffee together and discuss a few improvements he'd implemented in the last few weeks. She wasn't there to pass pleasantries, but she wouldn't be rude to the king after he'd been so good to her during her breakdown. He was her friend, something precious to be found in the new world … especially for someone like her who found it so difficult to trust.

Carol had left Rick to his visit with Ezekiel to talk about new trade among the communities, and smiled at Jerry as he'd escorted her to Linda's little cottage at the back of the compound.

 _The woman had been thrilled to see Carol, pulling her into a warm hug and greeting her with a smile. She'd nodded in understanding, however; as she'd noticed the little furrow between the older woman's brows. She'd ushered her inside and sat her down on the sofa, bustling about to make tea to offer her guest before joining her in the small living room and taking the seat opposite her._

 _Carol had busied herself preparing her cup, not knowing where to begin with the myriad thoughts racing through her mind, but the woman had quickly put her at ease. "As delighted as I am to see you, I take it this isn't a social call."_

 _"_ _No," Carol mumbled, taking a sip of her tea. The cup rattled against the saucer as she placed both back upon the coffee table. "No, it's not."_

 _Linda had reached out to rest her hand over her friend's. "Oh, honey_ _…_ _you know you can talk to me in confidence. Is it your man_ _…_ _the one you were so worried about? Did he survive the war with the saviors?"_

 _"_ _He's well_ _…_ _now."_

 _"_ _But?" the therapist urged in a gentle tone._

 _Carol sighed and rubbed her damp palms together, leaning forward to rest her forearms against her knees. "When I left_ _…_ _when Rick came for me_ _…_ _it was because of Daryl. The saviors_ _…_ _Negan," she hissed, his name still capable of leaving a bad taste in her mouth. "They'd been holding him captive. He barely survived what they did to him." Her lip trembled, a stray tear escaping from the corner of her eye unheeded. "He suffered so much."_

 _Linda passed her the box of tissues she kept on the small end table next to her chair. "You said he was well. He recovered sufficiently?"_

 _Carol nodded. "His body did, but I worry for his mind. Linda, Daryl isn't the man I met two years ago. His childhood was filled with unspeakable horrors, and I cannot tell you how difficult it was to break through his walls to become his friend. I love him_ _…_ _so much, and it kills me to see him have to suffer more due to what was done to him at the Sanctuary."_

 _"_ _And you recognize the signs because you went through something similar with your first husband," Linda murmured sympathetically. "Can you share your concerns with me? I know you're a very private person, Carol, but I can't help you_ or _Daryl if I don't know what's happening."_

 _"_ _It hasn't been all bad. He's much more open now with what he's feeling. For so long, he was afraid to tell me how he felt for fear I'd reject him, but since coming home, he doesn't hesitate to tell me exactly what he's feeling."_

 _The woman hummed thoughtfully. "He's embraced his fears where you're concerned. After being held captive and brought so close to death, it seems he doesn't want to take the chance of losing you again. Did you, in turn, share your feelings with him?"_

 _"_ _Yes," Carol replied, wringing her tissue between her fidgeting fingers. "I haven't left his side in two weeks_ _…_ _until today. His recovery hasn't been easy. Aside from the physical pain, he's suffered acute depression and nightmares. One minute he's trying to push us away, and the next he's his old self. I just_ _…_ _I don't know how to help him, Linda."_

 _"_ _What he's going through now is to be expected. Has he talked to you about his nightmares?"_

 _Carol wrapped her arms around her middle, having given up on trying to quell her tears. She trusted Linda, considered her a dear friend after spending hours upon the sofa spilling her life story. She'd told the woman about her marriage to Ed and the subsequent abuse, about losing Sophia. She'd even told her about Lizzie and Mika and what had happened at the grove. Daryl was the only other living person who knew about the girls' fate._

 _"_ _He has, but instead of getting better, I fear they're getting worse. I can't remember a night since his return that he hasn't woken up gripped with terror." She reached out and clasped Linda's hand in both of hers. "I think he needs to talk to you_ _…_ _if you would agree. No matter how much he might love and trust me, I don't believe he feels able to talk to me about everything. You have training in this sort of thing, and I think you could help him. Look at how much you've done for me."_

 _Linda had nodded reassuringly. "Of course, I will. But you know I don't leave these walls, Carol. He'd have to come here."_

 _"_ _Thank you," Carol breathed, the first easy breath she'd taken since waking that morning. "You don't realize how much this means to me."_

 _"_ _Is he here with you? I could talk to him today, and after everything you've told me about him, I have to admit I can't wait to meet him."_

 _Carol had smiled and shook her head. "No, I wanted to speak with you first, and make sure you wouldn't mind lending your advice."_

 _Linda gave Carol's hand a pat. "Don't you worry, honey. You get that man of yours here, and we'll have a nice chat. Everyone has the ability to heal, Carol. They just need a tiny push in the right direction."_

`Carol had felt as if a weight had lifted from the center of her chest after her talk with her friend. All she had to do now was convince Daryl to talk to her. The nightmares plagued him to the point he didn't want to close his eyes at night, and she could only imagine his waking hours to be equally difficult when he wasn't distracted. She'd caught him more than once lost in his own mind, staring listlessly at nothing, his body tensed for flight. She had to help him, and this was the only way she knew how.

Jerry had escorted her back to where she'd left Rick in his talks with Ezekiel to find them arguing over a new project the king had been discussing with Maggie on his last visit to the Hilltop. Talks which had delayed their departure from the Kingdom for a full two hours. She'd been spitting mad by the time she'd climbed into the truck with Rick to make their way back to Alexandria. It didn't matter that Rick had acquired a half a dozen chickens and a breeding pair of pigs to sweeten the deal Ezekiel was so insistent upon.

"Carol?"

She cut her icy blue gaze towards him, her mouth set into a grim line. "I have nothing to say to you, Richard."

Rick winced. It was never a good sign when she used his full first name. "I'm sorry, ok?"

"Your sense of direction sucks!" she hissed, turning her gaze back to the window and the passing scenery. "It's no wonder Daryl and Michonne never let you drive."

"It's not my fault!" he protested. "The blue Honda wasn't there."

"The blue Honda?" she questioned, the frown lines in her brow deepening. She was still pissed he'd gotten them lost. "What are you talking about?"

"I use it as a landmark," he admitted sheepishly.

Carol sighed. "Oh, sunshine, what am I going to do with you?" she asked ruefully, shaking her head. "Now we're going to be late because your landmark up and rolled away. I'm sure Daryl will be open to your explanation."

Rick shrugged. "Maybe we'll get there before he gets back. I mean … this is his first hunting trip in months. He's going to want to spend as much time in the woods as possible, right?"

Carol might have believed that of Daryl before he'd been taken captive, before they'd grown so close, before he wanted to spend his every waking moment within her sight. Even now, she remembered his reluctance to leave her that morning. Frankly, she'd be surprised if he wasn't prowling behind the gate when they got back, ready to tear into Rick for daring to bring her along on their run. Her lips turned up into a wry smirk to hide the anxiety she herself felt clawing at her breastbone and patted Rick on his knee.

"Keep telling yourself that, dear."

 **A/n: I really thought this was going to be the last chapter. Famous last words, right? However, I can't seem to stop writing and it's already over 10k so I'm going to have to split it. Hopefully, I'll be able to finish this up and post the last part next week. I really hope y'all like this part, and here's to seeing you next week. Thank you so much to those have read and reviewed. It means so much to me!**


	9. Fallout

Chapter Nine: Fallout

 **A/n: Hiatus really sucks! Here … have a chapter.**

Daryl couldn't help the small smile playing at his lips as the bike approached Alexandria, Aaron following not far behind. With the decrease in walker activity as of late, the forest was teeming with new life. A few more trips like they'd had today, and their freezers would be full for a good while to come. The sense of unease he'd left with that morning had dissipated somewhat once he'd parked his bike and set out into the trees. The sound of leaf litter beneath his feet, the rich smell of pine on the breeze, and a lonely bird call had seemingly welcomed him home. An intense feeling of belonging had swept over him, leaving him breathless. He wasn't even sure how long he'd stood there, frozen in place, just soaking up his surroundings before he'd noticed Aaron standing quietly by his side, waiting to follow him deeper into the forest to begin their hunt.

During Daryl's time as Negan's prisoner, Aaron and Eric had taken it upon themselves to hunt for the community, and his hunting partner had become quite adequate with the compound bow he held in his left hand. His tracking, however; was still subpar. Daryl had promised his friend to take him out again and train him up a bit, but not today. Today was for hunting, and Aaron was left to follow Daryl's lead.

There were so many tracks amongst the loam and mud, he hadn't known which to follow, excitement building within him. He'd finally chosen to trail after a deeply embedded set of boar tracks. Man, what he wouldn't do for a bacon sandwich. Olivia had enjoyed curing meats in her downtime when they were available, and the little smokehouse still stood at the back of the property. Visions of bacon, ham and pork chops filled his head and left his mouth watering. And his luck hadn't ended there. By early afternoon, he and Aaron had bagged the boar, a large buck, half a dozen rabbits, a few squirrels and one coon.

Now as he signaled Carl up on the top of the wall, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride mix in with his contentment. Carol would be thrilled with his success and welcome him home with her warm smile and bright eyes.

The boy clambered down from the wall, handing his rifle over to Sasha as she arrived to take his place on watch. His eyes widened as he peered into the back of the truck and waited for Daryl to climb off his bike to join him. "Where'd you find all this, Daryl?" Carl asked in stunned disbelief. "The most Aaron and Eric brought back were a few scrawny rabbits. You hit the jackpot, man."

Aaron leaned against the side of the truck and rolled his eyes. "Well, it helps when you go hunting with someone who actually knows how to track. You should've seen him … like a bloodhound."

Daryl ducked his head, still unused to any praise. "Figured we had enough room in th' freezer an' th' smokehouse. Gonna be some work getting' all this skinned an' butchered though." He nudged the boy with his shoulder. "Y' wanna help?"

"Hell yeah!" Carl nodded, looking forward to having something to do beside working in the gardens fertilizing the new plants. He really hated it when his dad followed Daryl's advice, especially when the advice was to punish him for doing something stupid. "Let me round up a couple of the guys and we'll meet you at the pantry."

Daryl flicked the brim of Carl's hat and sent him on his way. Not long after they'd found a home in the safe zone, he'd added a workroom extension to the patio of the house they used to store any and all goods … 'the pantry'. He used it specifically to clean and butcher his kills. He stopped Aaron as the man moved to start up the truck. "Go on. I'll meet y' there in a bit. Wanna stop in t' let Carol know I'm back so she don't worry."

Aaron waved, and set off down the street to his destination while Daryl made his way home. Several of the townsfolk waved from their porches or the sidewalk as he passed, welcoming the hunter back to the community. His eyes narrowed as he recognized several of the transplants from the Sanctuary. Rick had warned him ahead of time, so he hadn't been taken by surprise by their presence, but he didn't have to like it. These people had buckled under Negan's thumb, served him willingly. They had no place here in his opinion. He ignored the niggling voice at the back of his mind, reminding him of how Rick had done the same at the beginning. He did his best to ignore them as he pulled his bike to a stop at the curb in front of the house he shared with his family. If the others remained in the ASZ, he'd eventually have to accept them, but not today. All he wanted, after a day spent outside the walls, was his woman.

Daryl stopped on the porch, grimacing at his muddy boots. Carol wouldn't be happy if he tracked mud all over her clean floors. He kicked them off, leaving them by the door, and he snorted as he imagined what Merle would say about his consideration. _Yer whipped, boy! Plain an' simple._ But he also knew Merle would approve of Daryl's choice. Carol wasn't the same little mouse she'd been at the quarry. After she'd lost Sophia, she'd adapted to their new way of life, evolved into the warrior she was today. He liked to think Merle would not only have approved, but been proud Daryl had such a fierce woman to fight at his side.

He let himself inside, going first to the kitchen where he was sure she would have been, baking some sort of treat she liked to pass out to the community. "Carol?" he called when he didn't find her there. Nor was she in either of the bathrooms or on the patio. He peeked into Judith's room, but the toddler was sound asleep. She no doubt needed it, having suffered through most of the night with an ear infection. As a last-ditch effort, he checked their bedroom. His toes curled into the carpet, his chest twinging with the first hint of panic. Daryl forced himself to take a deep breath. There was no reason to allow himself to become overwhelmed with anxiety because he couldn't find her. She might have gone to visit Eric, or decided to work at the pantry or the communal kitchens. There were any number of tasks she could be doing to keep herself busy and 'useful'. She'd never been comfortable being idle.

The hunter was somewhat relieved to see Michonne exit the bedroom she shared with Rick and join him at the top of the stairs so they could go down together. "You just getting back?" she asked.

"Yeah … um … y' seen Carol? Know where she is?"

Michonne smiled, though it didn't match the hesitancy in her dark eyes. "She's around somewhere, I'm sure."

She followed him out onto the wide front porch, watching him warily as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his vest pocket and lit one. His eyes narrowed to icy blue slits as they settled on her. She fidgeted nervously under his gaze as she took a seat on the porch swing, which reminded him of how antsy she, Rick and Carol had been at breakfast that morning. "Know when she'll be back? Cain't wait t' show 'er what we brought back."

Michonne brightened at the thought of fresh meat for the community. "Your hunt was successful then?"

Daryl nodded, telling her all about his trip in an effort to make her relax and let her guard down. He'd never been what one would call 'chatty', and he was surprised at himself that he could draw out a conversation – at least on his end – when he could have said it all in two sentences.

"Well, I'm sure they'll be back soon and you can show her for yourself."

"Ha!"

Michonne's brow knit in confusion. "What?!"

"You said 'they'! Where's Carol," he fairly growled. "An' don't lie t' me, 'Chonne. Y'all were actin' funny this mornin' before I left an' I know somethin' is up. Now tell me."

She grimaced and pinched the bridge of her nose, gnashing her teeth. "Daryl, you're being paranoid."

Which was the absolute worst thing to say after what he'd been through. He drew himself to his full height and glared at her, hurt to hear her say such a thing to him. She was supposed to be his friend … a member of his family who should support him. "I am _not_ paranoid. Why cain't y' jus' give me a straight answer?!"

Trying to make up for her callous words, she finally caved. "Carol went on a run with Rick to the kingdom. She wanted to see a friend of hers who lives there, and he agreed to take her. She couldn't ask you … not the way you've been lately with wanting to keep her inside the walls at all costs unless she's with you …"

He could hear her speaking, knew she was trying to tell him more, but the panic rising in his chest would not be ignored. His heart thundered against his ribs, the blood rushing in his ears, and only one thought stuck on repeat as it dominated his mind. Carol was gone … with _Rick_. Run … Carol … Rick. Rick leaving her behind. Rick trying to keep him calm as he explained how Carol had confessed to killing Karen and David.

 _"_ _She has a car, supplies. She'll be ok. She's a survivor."_

 _"_ _Stop saying it like y' don't believe it!"_

Carol … his woman … alone … Rick … betrayal … NO!

Sweat broke out on his skin, his hand shaking as he brought it to his brow. No! He couldn't let him do it again, couldn't allow Rick to abandon her again. Daryl had lost her too many times. He'd fought too hard, too long, to lose her now. There was no governor, no sadistic cannibals, no Negan to stop him from going after her this time. He barely remembered to slip his boots back on before he was running for his bike, Michonne calling after him.

She ran after him, catching his arm to prevent him from mounting the bike, but he shrugged her off. "Daryl! Where are you going? They'll be back soon."

A deep rumbling growl shook his body as he turned to glare at her. It wasn't her fault, but that wasn't registering with him just now. "Yeah, we've all seen jus' how reliable Rick is for returning with _all_ his run partners. You're forgetting 'bout th' last time he took her on a run, ain'tcha?"

"He wouldn't do that again, Daryl," she protested, moving to stand in front of the bike to brace her hands on the handlebars, blocking his escape route. "Rick loves Carol; she's family, and he wouldn't take her from you … not again. He knows how important she is to you."

The vicious retort ready to slip past his lips died a slow death as he heard the main gate creak open. Daryl whipped his head around, throwing himself off the bike as he recognized Rick's truck making its way towards the house. His vision was a haze of red as he stalked towards the vehicle, barely giving it a chance to come to a full stop before he was ripping the door open and hauling his _brother_ out of the driver's seat.

"Oh, fuck!" Rick cursed, barely able to get the seatbelt unfastened before he felt Daryl's hands latch onto his denim shirt to pull him from the vehicle. The breath was knocked out of him as he was slammed into the side of the truck, leaving him gasping. "Now, Daryl, just calm –" Rick ducked as a fist flew towards his face. He wasn't quite so able to dodge the one which landed a punch to his gut. As he bent over, his vision dimming from lack of oxygen, Daryl's knee came up and clipped him in the mouth. He slid out of the hunter's grasp onto the cool grass, holding his hands up to ward off another attack.

"Where is she?! Where did y' leave her this time, y' bastard?!" Daryl roared. "I trusted y'! Y' were m' brother!" His fists curled once more into Rick's wrinkled shirt, slamming him into the ground. "Tell me where she is!"

Rick shook his head, trying to clear it, his fingers wrapping around Daryl's wrists as he tried to hold him off long enough to explain. He could hear Michonne yelling, the sound of running footsteps as others ran to investigate the disturbance, and most of all … Carol as she got out of the truck and hurried to pull Daryl off him. "She's here, brother! Look! You _know_ I wouldn't hurt you like that again."

"Daryl, stop!" Carol cried out, dropping to her knees beside him. She knew better than to touch his back when he was this far gone to his rage. Instead, her warm palms cradled his face, drawing his gaze to hers and forcing him to focus. "Stop! Baby, look at me," she murmured softly, caressing his cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs. "I'm here … right here. See? Rick brought me home with him safe and sound."

A low growl rumbled up out of his chest as he released Rick and curled his fingers around her delicate wrists, pulling her hands away from his face as his eyes narrowed dangerously on the woman he loved. She met his icy stare with one of her own despite the tremors he could feel beneath her skin. She wouldn't cower before him. Not his Carol. She was his equal, his perfect mate, and she would meet him head on with a fire unmatched by any aside from his own.

"What th' fuck were y' thinking, woman?! Y' didn't learn your lesson th' first time he left y'?! Y' wanted t' try again?" he raged, his voice rising in his fury as he climbed to his feet and dragged her up with him.

She, in turn, kept her voice calm, soothing, refusing to let him bait her into a fight in front of the others. "Daryl, you're upset –"

"You're damn right, I'm upset!" He ignored Carl and Michonne as they helped Rick to his feet behind them, and didn't pay any attention to any of the others who had been drawn by their angry voices. His in particular. "I leave t' go huntin' an' come back t' find y' gone. Why wouldn't I be upset, Carol!?"

Rick wiped a hand over his bloody mouth, groaning at the pain in his ribs. "Daryl, trust me, brother. I'd never abandon Carol. I –"

The hunter's head swung around so sharply, the bones in his neck cracked. "Trust y'?! I may never trust y' again, Rick. Y' went behind m' back an' took her outside th' walls!"

"Daryl! Now is not the time to be making a scene on the front lawn!" Carol hissed, her eyes flashing hotly. "Come inside and sit down where we can have a rational conversation about this."

"There ain't nothing rational about this! You and my _brother_ ," he sneered the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, "went behind m' back … _lied_ t' me!"

"It wasn't like that," she insisted. "If you'd just come inside and let us explain."

"Fuck that!" Daryl snarled. Before any of them could protest, he bent low and caught Carol around her thighs, tossing her over his shoulder. He didn't want to talk to anyone but her, and he didn't need an audience or anyone interrupting what he had to say to her. He felt exposed, standing there surrounded by people who were supposed to be his family, betrayed by the man he considered his brother, his closest friend. Damnit! His chest ached and his eyes burned with unshed tears.

"Daryl!" Carol shrieked as he marched across the lawn and mounted the porch steps. "Daryl, put me down!" She held out a hand and shook her head as Rick moved to follow, warning him now was not a good time for him to intervene. "I swear, you can be such a child sometimes!"

"Pfft!" he scoffed. "You're th' one runs off behind m' back – scared o' th' big bad Dixon – an' I'm th' one who's immature?"

"If the shoe fits …"

He grimaced, glancing down at his muddy boots and then looking back at the tracks he'd made across the hardwood, thankful she couldn't see the remorse twisting his features. How was it he could feel guilty about a little mud at a time like this? _Because y' love her, stupid!_ He kicked the bedroom door open, his hands full of a squirming Carol. He set her down on her feet and locked it behind him. His rage was giving way to the painful ache of betrayal in his chest, the need to know what reasoning she had behind her little trip dominating his mind as he glowered at her.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as they narrowed on her stiff posture and the way her lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure, her arms crossed over her chest defensively. "How could y' jus' leave with him?!" he hissed, pointing one long finger in her direction.

"You don't own me, Daryl Dixon!" she yelled back, finally losing the tight rein she held on her temper. "You can't tell me who I can or cannot leave with. I love you. I chose to be with you, but you do _not_ own me."

"The hell I don't! You've always been mine," he snapped, closing the distance between them, his hands wrapping around her upper arms in a gentle clasp. " _My_ friend, _my_ partner … _mine_ t' protect an' care for before y' could do it yourself. I ain't like Ed, Carol. I ain't never wanted t' beat y' down where y' lose who y' are, but I own your heart jus' as much as you own mine. And I'll be damned if I let Rick fuckin' Grimes take y' away from me again! I almost didn't survive it th' first time."

Her hands splayed over his chest as her features softened. It stunned her to hear him stake such a claim on her, to leave himself so vulnerable and bare before her. It made her want to club him with something for not admitting it sooner. So much time wasted, it brought tears to her eyes. She gave herself a mental shake, worry nagging at her as she feared she'd broken something he held dear … his friendship and brotherhood with Rick. She didn't want her little ploy to help Daryl destroy another relationship he'd built. "I thought you'd forgiven him."

Daryl let his head fall forward, hiding behind his dark curtain of hair, his chest heaving with exertion from trying to tamp down his roiling emotions. "Don't mean I forgot what he did, or what he took from me."

"And when you found me gone, you panicked. You were afraid he would abandon me again," she murmured gently as he deflated, his anger having burned off. "Daryl, things are different now. When I left … Rick did everything he could to find me. Even when Negan was exerting his control over Alexandria, Rick still had people out there searching for me. I … _we_ … are his family."

"Yeah … we thought we were his family back at th' prison too, an' y' see how well that shit worked out!"

Carol sighed and wriggled closer until she could lay her head against his shoulder. "He's not the same person he was then. After what he had to go through out there on the road … it changed him. Michonne told me about the night you found them and what the claimers tried to do to Carl." Her fingers curled into the ends of his hair as she felt him stiffen, knowing he still suffered guilt for having fallen in with such a group after he'd lost Beth. "He understood that night, Daryl. He saw for himself what lengths a person would go in order to protect his family. I trust him, and I know he trusts me now. You do too, which is why you need to let this go."

"Y' make it sound so damn simple," Daryl growled, taking her words to heart.

"Because it is. Can you honestly say he's done one thing since my banishment to make him earn your distrust?"

The hunter arched a dubious brow.

"Until today?"

Daryl shook his head. Rick had done nothing but fight to find them a safe place, a place where the children could grow, a place the group could rest their heads at night without having to sleep with one eye open. He felt like such an ass, a lot like who he'd been when he'd first met Rick and been ruled by his emotions. "I guess I owe him an apology now," he sighed.

"Yes, you do, but I owe _you_ one first. I shouldn't have asked Rick to take me to the Kingdom. I should have asked _you_."

He pulled back enough to search her face, seeing for himself the guilt and anguish warring on her features. "Why didn't y'? Why'd y' feel y' had t' go back there? Is it … do y' wanna go back … t' stay?" He released her and took a step back, feeling as if the world was crashing down around him. "Are y' leavin' me …" His words trailed away as his voice cracked, pain lancing his heart. For a moment, he lost himself to that poor broken boy he'd been. _Ever'body leaves, little brother. Might as well accept that now. Ain't no one ever gonna love y' 'xcept me,_ Merle's voice filtered through his head.

And just as quickly as he retreated to the safe space hidden in his mind, she yanked him back to her. "Don't you dare shut me out!" she growled, her fingers twisting in his long hair as she brought his head down to her and nipped lightly at his lower lip. "I _know_ you, Daryl. I can see it all over your face. You're letting your fears take over, and I'm not going to have it." His hands came to rest tentatively over her hips, and she was unsure if he would pull her closer or push her away. "I'm not going to leave you. I'm done with running."

"Is that right? You're allowed t' keep your little secrets, but I cain't have none? I gotta jus' pray I don't wake up one mornin' an' find y' gone?" he asked, a growl rumbling deep in his chest

Carol tried her best not to quail under the heat of his gaze. She knew what it was to be threatened by someone who claimed to love her, but his words didn't instill fear in her. Rather, it caused a tremor of excitement to trip along her spine, never having seen this side of him before. "It's not like t-that!" she sputtered.

"So … y' didn't lie t' me an' run off behind m' back? It was your evil twin?"

"NO!" she protested, feeling like she was being stalked, prey trapped in the hunter's snare. "I did it for you!"

Daryl's hand crept up her back until his fingers curled around her nape, the other encircling her hips to settle firmly over the sweet curve of her ass. "Don't care," he rasped, burying his nose against the smooth ivory column of her throat to breathe her in. He smiled as she tilted her head to the side to give him better access to what he wanted. He could smell her arousal, and just a hint of fear. Was she afraid of him now … after everything they'd endured together, or was she afraid of what he made her feel? "This is me, Carol. This is me bein' open with y' like y' want. Y' listenin'?"

She moaned low in her throat as he nipped her earlobe, his warm breath ghosting over the whorls of her ear to send heat spiraling straight to her center. "Y-Yes …"

"We're in this t'gether. I ain't playin' no games with y'," he whispered, pressing her flush with his body, his burgeoning arousal trapped now against her belly. "No lies, no secrets. Y' wanna run … I'll run with y'. You're m' reason, woman. Th' reason I fight so hard, th' reason I drag m' sorry ass outta bed every mornin'. Question is … am I yours?"

He released her and took a step back, leaving her aching to be back in his arms. Daryl held her gaze, waiting with bated breath to hear her answer as he watched a myriad of emotions flicker over her face. Yet, she seemed as if it wouldn't be forthcoming. He died a slow death, his heart shriveling in his chest as he wondered how she could profess her undying love in one moment and completely shut him out in the next. Carol seemed frozen, her eyes haunted, and he realized he couldn't stand there and wait for her to deliver that final blow which would sever their bond. Without another word, he pivoted on his heel and left the room. He wouldn't let her see the tears fall from his lashes as he made his way to the stairs and out into the night.

 **A/n: Yeahhhh** **…** **because I'm evil. This is totally NOT what I had planned for this chapter, but the characters are very insistent when they start talking in my head. Good news** **…** **there will be another chapter** **?** **Big thanks to all who are still reading this story. It's been nominated for the 3** **rd** **annual Caryl fanfic awards in the angst/drama category (which I'm over the moon about). Again, thanks so much for reading and reviewing! It means so much to me to have you dear readers supporting this work. See you next week *hugs***


	10. Forever

Chapter 10: Forever

 **A/n: Last chapter, my darlings! This one contains smut, so here's your warning for that if it's not your thing. Great big buckets of love to all those who have read and reviewed. Your support has meant the world to me.**

It was nearing eleven when Daryl returned to the house he shared with his family. After his fight with Carol, he hadn't been sure where he wanted to go. His first instinct was to get on his bike and leave Alexandria behind for a few days, to let the tires eat up the pavement beneath him and allow the stress to bleed off him. But it was nearing dusk and despite how angry and confused he was, he couldn't bring himself to worry Carol. They were both well aware of the dangers of being caught outside the gates after dark. Even though he felt the intense need to flee, he didn't trust he had his full strength back, and it would be stupid of him to take the risk.

Instead, he trudged down the sidewalk to the pantry where Carl and the others surely had the butchering of his kills underway. He'd spent hours there, listening to mindless, happy chatter as they worked to get everything put away in the freezers. It was hard to take in their overall contentment with life when he felt so completely at odds with himself, but he didn't have the heart to ruin their fun.

What wouldn't fit in the freezers would be passed out the individual homes in the community. Carl had already taken a portion of the boar to the smokehouse so he and Aaron could salt and hang it. At least a good bit of the day hadn't been a total waste. Eric already had plans to make pork sausage the next day, wrangling a promise from Carl and Aaron to help.

Daryl slipped into the laundry room, ignoring the covered casserole on the stove as he passed through the kitchen. His stomach was too tied up in knots to even think of eating. He'd cleaned up as much as possible at the pantry, but he needed a shower. He found a pair of cotton sleeping pants, boxers and a t-shirt folded in one of the baskets, and slipped off to use the downstairs bathroom. He didn't like it. Though he wasn't subjected to some flowery shower gel of Michonne's, the room didn't smell right. Even Carl's Irish Spring body wash didn't ease his tension. He'd become too accustomed to a mixture of lilacs and sandalwood. Not a combination he would have even considered in his old life – Hell, he was lucky when he could shower at all following after Merle – but it was the perfect blend of his and Carol's preferences. It soothed and comforted him, but he wasn't sure if he were quite ready to return to their bedroom to face her.

He finished quickly, his hair still dripping a bit as he padded towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Flames from the fire pit out on the patio caught his eye, and he quickly changed his mind, taking two bottles of beer from the refrigerator and stepping outside. Only Rick had the habit of sitting outside this late. His friend was reclined back in a lawn chair, his feet propped up on the bricks surrounding the pit, warming his bare toes. Daryl grimaced as he noticed the ice pack resting between Rick's brows.

The former deputy arched a brow in the hunter's direction. "If you've come to hit me again, I'm not in the mood," he drawled in a dry tone.

Daryl offered him one of the beers and sat down next to him. "Ain't gonna hit y' again," he replied, staring into the flames as he chewed his lower lip. Finally, he sighed and looked over at him, partially hidden behind his dark curtain of bangs. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Rick waved him off and took a long pull from his beer. "It was a risk I was prepared to take when I agreed to accompany her to the Kingdom. I knew you'd be upset that I brought her outside the walls … I just hadn't imagined it would trigger you as badly as it did." He dragged the ice pack off his brow and leveled Daryl with a searching look. "Daryl, you have to know I wouldn't banish her again."

Daryl frowned down into the flames licking away at the pine knot. "Shit happened so fast with th' governor's attack, we never really had a chance t' talk about it back at th' prison. Y' were wrong for what y' did, an' I hated y' for it. If everythin' hadn't gone t' hell, I would've gone after her. Y' know that, right?"

"I know that now. After Terminus, I realized how much you love her." He snorted. "Hell, anyone with eyes could see it."

Daryl's fingers clenched around the bottle in his hand. "Y' never should've taken it upon yourself t' banish her, Rick. It was a decision for th' council. She could've died out there on her own! An' when 'Chonne told me Carol left with y' …"

"You thought history was going to repeat itself." Rick sighed heavily and set his empty bottle on the ground next to his chair. "Daryl, I was wrong. You know, I never thought this group would become my family when I first stumbled into that quarry, and I'll be the first to admit I've made my fair share of mistakes. Banishing Carol was one of the biggest. She did what she thought was best to protect our family, but as screwed up as my head was after Lori died, I couldn't see it that way. It took her swooping in like an avenging angel to save us from Terminus for me to realize that. Everything she's done … she's done it for us, our family. When she left us this last time, because things just got to be too much for her … I was devastated."

Daryl drained his bottle and rubbed a hand over his scruff, lost in thought. He was surprised to hear Rick admit he'd been wrong, but it helped alleviate his fears that their leader would try to pull such a stunt again. "She almost lost herself. I just worry she'll run again." He hadn't meant to say that last, and he cursed silently, knowing Rick would have questions for him he may not want to answer.

Rick wasn't going to disappoint him. "Did she tell you why she needed to go back to the Kingdom so badly? Badly enough to risk your temper?"

The hunter hung his head. "No … didn't give her a chance."

Rick groaned. "She did it for you, brother. There's a woman there, a friend she made during her time there. She's a therapist. Carol wanted to ask her if she'd be willing to talk to you about what you've been going through. I think she might've also wanted to talk about her own issues while she was there. She was gone for quite a while … long enough for Ezekiel to talk me into another project."

"Carol wants me to see a head-shrinker?!" Daryl asked, his mouth gaping in horror.

"She wants to _help_ you, Daryl."

He closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the chair, feeling like a complete ass for his earlier behavior. The book he'd taken from the shelter in Atlanta had hinted at such, encouraging abuse survivors to seek professional help, but the thought of talking to a stranger about his past trauma scared the hell out of him. It was easy to talk to Carol about things now because of the love and trust he shared with her. He didn't know if he could share his past with anyone else. He didn't want a stranger to judge him.

Rick reached out and rested his hand on his friend's forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Talk to Carol. The two of you have come too far to allow a misunderstanding to drive a wedge between you."

"I'll be lucky if she don't stab me in m' sleep."

Rick rose unsteadily to his feet, ready to seek out his own bed. "She wouldn't do that, not after the lengths she went to in order to see you through your recovery. I wouldn't put it past her to make you sleep on the couch though," he snickered.

Daryl's hesitant tone caught him as he was opening the door to go back inside. "Rick? We good?"

"Yeah … yeah, we are." It was going to take more than getting his ass kicked to ruin their friendship.

*.*.*

Daryl remained out on the patio until the flames died down in the fire pit, leaving nothing but embers. His body ached, making him feel every one of his forty plus years. His captivity, his recovery … they'd made him weak to the point a hunt wore him out. He was going to have to change that, and soon. His people depended on him.

He didn't want to think the emotional stress of the day had any bearing on the situation, though it did. Yawning, he pushed himself to his feet and extinguished what was left of the fire. He couldn't put off his confrontation with Carol unless he chose to return to his old room or sleep on the couch. As comfortable as their couch was, it hurt his back if he laid on it overlong, and the cold bare attic room, he'd stayed in before, held no appeal. He didn't want either. He wanted his own bed and his woman curled around him.

As late as it was, he held onto a slim shred of hope that she'd be asleep. Carol had a habit of being asleep by eleven so she could rise at dawn with him. Her internal clock was almost as infallible as his own. Daryl cracked the door open and peered inside, surprised to find the lamp still on and noise coming from their ensuite bathroom. _Damnit!_ No sense in being quiet when he could hear the hair dryer. Butterflies the size of condors clawed their way through his belly. Maybe he should have opted for the sofa after all.

His teeth gnashed as he caught a glimpse of her through the open door, watching as she set the dryer aside and clicked off the light. There was no avoiding her now. He tried to will his body to behave as he took in the tiny sleep shorts and tank she wore, all that creamy flesh of her bare arms and long slender legs on display for him. He had a sneaking suspicion she'd donned those particular pajamas just to torment him. _I am so fucked!_ he thought miserably.

Carol's eyes flashed hotly as she moved to stand before him, her arms crossing defiantly over her chest. "Did you have dinner?" she asked, causing his brow to knit in confusion. What the hell was she on about? Who gave a good goddamn if he ate or not?!

"Wasn't hungry," he mumbled, watching her warily. At least her knife was in its place on the dresser behind him well out of her reach. "I went t' th' pantry t' see t' m' kills. Needed time t' think."

"You left," she accused, holding his gaze. "Are you still angry, or has your head cleared enough to have a rational discussion?" Damn! He hated it when she used that tone on him. He felt as if he were standing in the principal's office about to be expelled.

In truth, she was the one who had every reason to be angry with him. "I dunno. Are y' gonna make me sleep on th' couch? 'Cause if y' are, I'd rather just talk in th' mornin'."

Her lips twitched, fighting a grin. "Your place is here with me, Dixon. There's no need to strain your back on the sofa." Uh-oh … it never boded well when she called him that. She pointed one dainty finger towards the bed. "Sit."

Daryl didn't think twice about disobeying her command. He perched on the end of the bed and braced his hands on his knees, his shoulders tense. The last thing he expected was for her to shove his hands out of her way and straddle his lap. He inhaled sharply, his body responding immediately to her proximity. "Carol -"

She covered his lips with her fingertips, cutting off his protests. "No! It's my turn to talk. In fact, I think you need a taste of your own medicine."

His eyes widened. "Whatcha mean … my own medicine?" he asked, unable to concentrate on anything aside from her perfect ass firmly settled on his lap and the heat from her core seeping through the thin layers separating them to scorch his cock. _Fuckin' hell!_ His hands rose to her hips, fingers twisting in the cotton of her shorts as he wished them away. He wanted to feel her without the barriers, but mostly without the strife which existed between them.

Carol smiled, and he wondered if he should be afraid of the wicked promise hiding behind the azure pools of her eyes. Her clever fingers toyed with the hem of his t-shirt mere seconds before she was whipping it over his head. He hadn't even the time to protest and her lips were trailing along his neck, her teeth nipping at the tendon standing out in sharp relief.

"You play dirty pool, Dixon … opening up to me, all the while teasing me with your lips …" she purred, sucking his warm flesh into her mouth, marking him for all to see. "Your arms holding me captive to your whim. How would you feel if I did the same to you? Will you let me bring you close and leave you wanting?"

Her hand fisted in his hair, dragging his head back to meet her gaze and see the smug smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. "I'm sorry … swear I am," he mumbled incoherently.

"Why?" she demanded, her nails scraping against his tender scalp and eliciting a growl from deep in his throat.

"Why what?"

Carol loosened her grip and slid off his lap, arching a brow at him. He gaped at her, his hands clenching and releasing with the need to snatch her back to him. It didn't help when her eyes trailed languidly over his body to settle on the tent he was making in his pants. "Not so much fun being on the receiving end, is it?" she drawled.

Daryl groaned and dropped back against the duvet. "I was an ass. I deserve t' be punished. Y' have every right t' hate me for walkin' out on y' earlier." He lifted his head to see if his words had any impact on her whatsoever. No such luck. "Seriously, woman … I'm sorry. I fuckin' panicked. I was angry an' when y' didn't answer, I had t' get out."

Carol sighed and brushed a tear from the corner of her eye before it could fall. "You hurt me."

"Fuckkkk!" he growled, rising stiffly from the bed to gather her into his embrace. She came willingly, and he cradled her against his chest. "I'm so sorry. I warned y' … I ain't good at this shit. Never was, but I'm tryin'."

"You _are_ my reason, Daryl. If you'd stayed just a moment longer, I would have told you. You let your fears get the better of you instead and ran off."

Daryl pulled her back onto his lap as he settled against the headboard, his hands roaming soothingly over her back. He pressed a kiss to her temple and sighed. "Rick told me why y' wanted t' go t' th' Kingdom today. Said y' want me t' see a head-shrinker." He ducked his head. "Y' think I'm crazy now? That what Negan did drove me insane?"

Carol swatted his arm. "Of course, not! But, Daryl, you're suffering. Your nightmares are getting worse instead of better. I think talking to Linda could help you. She helped _me_. And you won't have to go alone. I'll be right there with you … if you want me to. We might be able to work out our issues together. Wouldn't it be nice to go to sleep at night without worrying about what tortures your subconscious will conjure?"

Daryl curled a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up to meet his troubled gaze. "Nightmares ain't nothin' new t' me. Had 'em all m' life, Carol. Growin' up with m' daddy, how could I not? They just got worse after th' turn, worse because now I got people I care about. I can live with it. What I don't get is why y' thought y' couldn't come t' me an' ask _me_ t' take y' t' see your friend. Did y' think I woulda told y' no?"

She shrugged, averting her eyes to the strand of his hair her fingers toyed with. "No, it's not that … you're just very defensive when it comes to such things. Linda didn't have an easy time surviving before Ezekiel found her. Now she doesn't leave the walls at all. She's content to remain at the Kingdom where she is assured relative safety. I had to make sure she would agree to see you at all before I would even dream of bringing it up with you." She peeked at him from beneath her lashes to find him watching her intently. "I don't want you to think I believe you to be crazy or insane because of what was done to you, Daryl. But I _do_ know you're suffering, and my heart aches because I can't make it better. I just want to help you."

His hand traced down her side to give her hip a gentle squeeze. "Y' _do_ make it better. Gawd, woman, I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you! I cain't even tell y' how many times I wanted t' leave, but y' were there every time t' drag me back … _you_ , not th' group." His fingers delved into the silver curls at her nape, his thumb caressing the sensitive spot just below her ear. "It woulda been so easy jus' t' slip away an' go off t' look for m' brother, but by then I was too far gone. I couldn't leave y'. And I hate myself for not tellin' y' sooner." He claimed her, his lips gently brushing hers. "I'll talk t' your friend if y' think it'll help. I ain't never gonna stop tryin' for you, Carol. There's a good chance I'll fuck up again, but hopefully you'll give me another chance."

"As many as you need. And if I run … it will be straight to you," she whispered, knowing how hard it must have been for him to agree to talk to a therapist. He was such a private person, more willing to bottle his pain than share it. She shifted on his lap, straddling him once more as she cradled his face in her palms, his scruff tickling her fingers. "I'm sorry I lied to you."

"Carol –"

"I did. A lie of omission is still a lie, Daryl. I'm sorry." She leaned into him, kissing him softly, a kiss full of regret, of apology. "We've grown so much … there really is no reason I can't talk to you about _anything_. Forgive me?"

His lips tilted up into a half-moon grin, his cheeks tinting a dusky rose beneath his tan. "Only if y' can forgive me for being such an asshole."

Carol snorted. "No one's perfect."

Daryl shook his head back, flicking the hair out of his eyes without being forced to release the tenuous hold he had on her hips. "I dunno," he murmured lowly, his voice deep and pitch-perfect to make her shiver in his grasp. "You're pretty perfect t' me."

Her eyes fell closed, and when she opened them, she was unable to disguise her desire. Nor could she withhold her moan as his calloused, work-roughened hands slid over her hips to settle on the sweet curve of her ass, pulling her closer. He trembled as she rocked her hips, her heat re-igniting the fire boiling in his veins and causing a rush of desire to surge to his groin.

Carol watched him closely through sloe-lidded eyes, careful with him. Always so careful, his woman. Her fingers trailed gently over his face from temple to jaw before she smoothed her thumb over his lower lip. "Daryl … Carson said we could … um … we could have sex," she hedged, her face heating beneath his gaze. "Will you … " She sucked in a deep breath, fighting off another bout of nerves. "Will you make love to me?"

She let out an undignified squeak, her blush deepening as he gripped her tightly and rose up on his knees before laying her back gently on the duvet. He groaned as he settled between her legs and buried his face against her throat, lavishing her lilac-scented skin with hot open-mouthed kisses and nips of his teeth, trying to convey the depths of his feelings for her without words. He was too overcome from her sweet plea, incapable of speech. He caught her wide-eyed gaze and tilted his head in askance, wondering over the trepidation he saw there. "Y' a'right?" he asked, his fingers toying with the hem of her shirt.

Carol nodded fervently, and brushed a tear from the corner of her eye before it could fall. "I don't know why I'm so nervous. I've wanted to be with you like this for so long, but I feel like a virgin bride on her wedding night."

His thumbs caressed the sensitive skin above the waistband of her shorts as his lips trailed a series of kisses over the smooth line of her jaw. "Don't need a piece o' paper t' tell me you're mine," he murmured with a contented sigh. "Knew y' was gonna be trouble th' minute I saw y' drive that pickaxe into ol' Ed's dead head."

Her back arched, her breasts pressing into his chest as his hands sneaked beneath her tank to lift it over her head. "Trouble, eh?"

Daryl's gaze swept over her in appreciation before he grinned up at her. "Yup. Knew m' heart would never be th' same. " His fingers splayed over her cheek as he lowered his head to kiss her, his breath warm against her lips. "I saw your pain, baby, knew y' were like me. But I could also see your fire, your determination to overcome what he'd done t' y'. It made me want somethin' for myself, even though I never thought I could have it."

Carol let her fingers ghost over the new scars covering his back in a gentle caress, but he didn't flinch, didn't pull away, secure in her touch. "What did you want?" she breathed.

"You."

Her lips parted and formed a silent 'o' of surprise, reveling in the knowledge he'd wanted her even as far back as the quarry. For so many years, she'd had to listen to Ed tell her no one would ever want her. She was worthless, used up, undesirable. He'd convinced her he was her only choice; it was one of the reasons she'd stayed, a slave to her fears. It still stunned her, the difference between being oppressed by a man and being truly loved by another. It didn't take any time at all to stomp on old memories and make new ones with Daryl.

She surrendered to his kiss, relishing the soft stroke of his tongue against hers and the way his heart thundered beneath her palm. "And now that you have me … what is it you plan to do with me, Dixon?"

The grin which spread over his face could only be described as pure sin, his smoky blue gaze darkening as he tugged her hands from his hair and placed a kiss to the center of each palm. He pulled her arms over her head, his lips slanting over hers in a searing kiss as he trailed his fingertips over her smooth skin. He continued down over the sides of her breasts and along her ribs before making his way back up to cup a firm mound in each hand. Carol arched her back, stretching her body up, seeking the heat of his mouth as he nuzzled the valley between her breasts.

Daryl smiled, his sharp teeth nipping gently along the inside swell and then soothing it with his tongue. "Wanna make y' happy, show y' how much I love y'," he rumbled against her ivory flesh, fascinated by the light dusting of freckles.

Carol keened long and low as the heat of his mouth closed over one turgid bud. She left one arm slung over her head, but she couldn't stop herself from burrowing the other in his hair, her fingers dancing softly over his nape as she held him to her. She was overwhelmed with sensation, the scrape of his teeth, softness of his lips and the cat-like roughness of his tongue as he drew her in deeper to trap her nipple against the roof of his mouth. A fresh wave of heat shot directly to her core, causing her to buck her hips up into him, seeking the friction she so desperately needed.

Daryl had suffered so much from his captivity, and she wished she could wipe the entire experience from his memory, but it had accomplished one _good_ thing. It had made him realize how short life could be and shown him he needed to stop bottling his feelings for her. All the while he'd been healing from his wounds, he hadn't hesitated to touch her and accept touch – limited as it had been – from her in return. She marveled in the confidence he'd gained, and now she was reaping the benefits.

She writhed impatiently, lost to his touch, heat coiling through her and igniting her need, but he was determined to take his time, to savor her like a fine wine. He rubbed his face against her breasts, the soft texture of his scruff heightening her pleasure before he paid homage to its twin, reveling in her soft moans. "Daryl … please," she whimpered, her fingers tightening in his hair.

He soothed a hand down to her hip, giving it a gentle squeeze as his lips trailed lower over the taut plane of her belly. He grinded his erection into the mattress, praying he would last. He wanted to worship her flesh, become a slave to her passion without his body betraying him. He wanted to pour his love into her until her only sound was the breathless whisper of his name falling from her lips. "Easy, baby. Wanna make this last." His teeth toyed with her flesh in a teasing assault along the low-slung waistband of her shorts, and he hoped the walls were thick enough to prevent her cries from carrying.

Daryl rose up and claimed her lips once more, his tongue delving into the honeyed recesses of her mouth before capturing her gaze. The ebony darkness of his blown pupils only fueled her desire, evidence of his own need, his barely restrained control prevalent in his eyes. Her fingers collided with his where they hooked in the cotton of her shorts and the lace of her underwear, helping him push the offending garment down her legs.

Carol fought against the urge to cover herself as she lay bare before him. His hot gaze swept over her from top to toe as he knelt there between her parted legs taking her in, but instead of the revulsion she feared from the marks Ed had left on her body, she only saw desire, appreciation … _reverence_. He reached out tentatively, his hands ghosting over her thighs, his jaw clenching as he fought back a surge of lust. "Want y' so much, Carol," he purred, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee. "So fuckin' much."

Her lips fell open as she sucked in a ragged breath, consumed with him. "I'm yours … _yours_ , Daryl," she rasped brokenly.

Her cries were music to his ears as he surged forward, burying his face between her legs, his tongue tracing the line of her slit. Carol's thighs trembled where his hands rested, parting her further to his gentle exploration. She opened like a flower before him, and he groaned, petals of perfection, dewy and glistening, beckoning him forward. Her essence burst over his taste buds, sharp and sweet, and he swore he'd never tasted anything so good in his life. He laved her from her opening up to the taut bundle of nerves aching for his touch, a low rumbling growl humming from his lips as he circled it with his tongue. He knew he was sloppy and had no technique to speak of, yet her hands fisted in his hair, her hips rising with each imperfect lick as she ground against his mouth. He let his hands fall away from her thighs, reaching beneath her to grab hold of her perfect heart-shaped ass, feasting upon her as her legs clamped around his head.

Carol felt as if she were losing her mind as his teeth scraped over her clit. No one had ever touched her like this before. The one time she'd suggested it to Ed, he'd backhanded her across the face and called her a whore. She hadn't made that mistake again. Her husband had been a selfish lover, only concerned with his own pleasure. Probably why she'd never experienced an orgasm with anything aside from her trusty vibrator or her own hand. But the groans and growls coming from Daryl made her feel as if he were actually enjoying the act as much as she was. She wriggled beneath him with each swirl of his tongue, mindless with the pleasure he wrought from her body, her core throbbing to the point of pain, aching to have him buried inside her.

"Let go, woman … stop thinkin' so hard an' just feel." Her breath hitched as his hot hands on her ass helped her find a steady rhythm. He was relentless, helping her move faster as he continued his assault, driving her closer to her peak. A shower of sparks erupted behind her closed lids as she tumbled over the edge, never having come so hard before in her life. Daryl slowed, trailing back down to her opening, lapping at the moisture readily with his tongue as he eased her back down to earth.

Daryl sat back on his haunches to watch her, infinitely satisfied with himself. There was a steady throb to his cock where it tented against his sleeping pants, and he felt a fresh surge of lust tighten his groin further as her wrecked gaze followed the line of his body until it settled there between his legs. His entire body hummed with need, and he wasted no time in shucking his pants and settling between her legs. But he didn't enter her, much to her chagrin. Instead, he devoured her lips with a dirty kiss, letting her taste herself on his tongue and reveling in the choked cry trying to fight its way from her throat.

Carol traced the scar left from a bullet wound near his right shoulder, a knife wound near his ribs and the scar he wore proudly from his own bolt near his left hip. He was so beautiful, yet she dared not tell him, knowing he'd scoff and sputter and call her absurd. Tears welled in her eyes to think of how far they'd come together. From the quarry where he couldn't seem to meet her eyes, to the farm where he'd nearly died trying to bring her daughter back to her, to the prison where she'd been lost to him. Her friend, her protector, her partner … now her mate.

His kiss gentled, and the pads of his thumbs brushed worriedly over her cheeks to brush away her tears. "Hey … what's wrong? Did I … Did I hurt y'?" He nuzzled his nose to hers. "Please don't cry, baby. I can't stand it when y' cry."

She pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. "I love you, Daryl," she whispered, her hands trailing along his sides and over his belly before wrapping her fingers around his cock.

Daryl hissed, feeling her guide him to her opening. "I-I love y' too, Carol … so fuckin' much."

Carol wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he eased himself into her an inch at a time, giving her time to adjust to the invasion. She'd never felt so filled before, so complete, her hands soothing over his back as he buried his face in the curve of her neck, his lips peppering her throat with soft nips and kisses. A gasp escaped her parted lips as the need became too great and he gave a tentative thrust. God, had anything ever felt so perfect, she thought wildly, curling a leg over his hip and drawing him deeper.

He propped himself on an elbow, his other hand gripping her hip as he focused on her. Long, deep strokes to fuel her ardor. He wanted so badly to see her come again, to feel it this time, to have her essence drench his cock. His lips waged a battle on her flesh, seeking out every place he knew brought her pleasure until it threatened to shatter his control. Her hips rose to meet his every thrust, her panting breaths puffing softly against his neck, increasing the fire crackling at the base of his spine. He didn't know how much longer he'd be able to fight off his release.

"Daryl …"

Carol bit down on the tendon standing in stark relief on his shoulder, and he howled, the pleasure combined with the brief sting of pain catapulting him over the edge as he drove into her. He cursed, feeling as if he'd failed her, but then she stiffened in his arms, her silky hot walls clenching and clasping his cock with abandon. He jerked his head up in time to watch her eyes slam shut, her petal soft mouth held in a silent scream, and he let himself go, his hot seed splashing against her womb.

She held him to her, happily cradling his weight against her body as his heart slowed and his breathing quieted. Her lips pressed to his temple, her fingers carding through his soft hair, reveling in the delicious ache riddling her body. It could have been minutes or hours – she couldn't have cared less – before he lifted his head from her shoulder and peeked at her from behind his long dark curtain of hair to find a smile toying at her lips.

"Y' a'right?" he muttered, hissing when he slipped from her body to settle at her side. At her nod and widening grin, he pulled her close until she was draped over his chest. "Y' sure?"

Her azure gaze lifted lazily to meet his. "I'm perfect. Though I'm afraid we're going to catch hell from our family in the morning. You ok with that?"

Daryl snorted. "I ain't worried about it. How many times did we have t' listen t' Glenn an' Maggie all those months on th' road an' at th' prison?" His lips dipped down into a frown as he remembered his friend.

"Glenn would be so happy to know we're together … don't you think?" she asked, brushing at the moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"Yeah, he would. Used t' give me hell all th' time for not makin' a move on y' or tellin' y' how I felt. He'd be happy for us."

Carol reached down and brought the duvet up to cover them, not worrying about their lack of clothes. She pressed her nose into the crook of his neck and breathed him in. "Sleep, Pookie. We have a big day tomorrow and you've more than earned your rest."

Daryl pressed a kiss to her brow and tightened his grip around her. She was his … irrevocably his. He let that knowledge soothe and comfort him, allowing him to drift off into an exhausted sleep where she would chase away his nightmares.

*.*.*

The aroma of fresh brewed coffee and sinfully sweet cinnamon buns roused Daryl from a sound sleep, his stomach growling loudly. A smile stretched his lips until his hand encountered cool sheets and he realized Carol wasn't by his side. He rolled over with a yawn and squinted at the wind-up clock she kept on the bedside table. It was already seven forty-five. _Th' fuck?_ He wasn't accustomed to his internal clock failing him. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd slept the morning away. He rolled out of bed, mentally mapping the route he wanted to take to the Kingdom as he pulled fresh clothes from the dresser.

Rick was sitting at the table, Judith on his lap and flanked by Carl and Michonne when Daryl entered the kitchen and propped his crossbow near the archway. Carol, naturally, was at the stove, her skill responsible for the tantalizing aromas which had woke him. His stomach growled again, his fingers itching to snatch a sticky bun from the pan. Instead, he moved to stand behind his woman, wrapping his arms around her waist as he watched her fry up some ham steaks to go with the fluffy scrambled eggs she'd made.

She turned her face up to him for a kiss, and he didn't disappoint, uncaring of who was crowded into the kitchen to bear witness. "Morning, Pookie," she purred against his lips. "Pour yourself some coffee and have a seat. Breakfast is ready."

Daryl grabbed the pan of buns and set it in the center of the table, leaving Carol to carry the eggs and ham before he took his place next to Carl. Judith babbled happily until she noticed Daryl and then crawled off her father's lap in favor of her uncle's. Daryl picked her up and blew a raspberry against her neck, making her giggle.

Rick began dishing food onto his plate, shaking his head. "Do you have to spoil her? You're going to kick yourself one day when she's five and still demanding to sit on your lap."

The hunter snorted. "Jealous much?" He dropped a kiss to Judith's soft curls and settled her on his lap. "Tell Daddy who y' love, Asskicker."

The little girl banged her sippy cup on the table and grinned at her father. "Dare!"

Rick arched a brow. "Traitor."

Carol giggled and filled a plate for Daryl, cutting one of the large sticky buns into bite sized pieces since Judith would undoubtedly be eating right off his plate. "Children can never have too many people love them, Rick."

Daryl ate slowly. He normally did when Judith shared his food. He didn't mind in the least. He loved her with his whole heart, knowing she'd probably be the closest he ever had to having one of his own. It pleased him greatly to know Rick didn't mind sharing her. "Carl, don't forget y' need t' meet Eric at th' pantry t' make sausage today. Wanna get 'em in th' smokehouse before th' day's out."

"I helped butcher your kills yesterday. Why do I have to help make sausage? I wanted to hang out with Enid today," the boy groaned around a mouthful of ham.

Daryl scowled at him. "Because last I checked, y' was still grounded an' are slave t' my whim. I better not hear y' showed your ass while I'm gone, neither."

Carl mumbled under his breath and focused on finishing his breakfast. He hated being grounded.

"You're leaving?" Rick asked, spearing a piece of ham. "What are your plans?"

Daryl stared down at Judith, her little mouth open for another bite of eggs. "Goin' t' th' Kingdom t' see Carol's friend. We should be home before nightfall."

Rick leaned back in his chair, a warm smile lighting his face as he looked between Carol and Daryl. "Good. I'm glad to hear that."

Carol pushed her plate aside and rose to take the baby from Daryl to clean her sticky hands. "Since we're going, can you think of anything you might need? Ezekiel might have something to barter."

Michonne sipped at her coffee, eyeing them over the rim of her cup. "Earplugs."

Daryl blushed scarlet and pushed himself away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink before hefting his crossbow over his shoulder. "Earplugs, got it … Carol, _vamanos_ , woman!"

He beat a hasty retreat out the front door, refusing to let his family put a damper on his mood. The sun was shining, the temperature mild, and soon he'd be leaving Alexandria behind with only Carol to keep him company on the ride. He wasn't exactly thrilled to meet the therapist she wanted him to speak with, but for her, he'd do just about anything. He had a chance to heal, to love … a chance at happiness and forever with a woman he adored. Everything else could just burn away.

THE END


End file.
